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sameheart-sameblood · 2 years

Text

Missed Connection

Missed Connection Ch. 2

pairing: carmy berzatto x f!reader

summary: after being best friends since culinary school, you and carmy have had somewhat of a falling out. while opening up a restaurant in chicago, you try to make amends and get your friend back

words: 2k

warnings: 18+ eventually but nothing of real note in this chapter, some angst, eventual friends to lovers, dummies who can't just say how they're feeling, slow burn, me not knowing how restaurants or chef things work

a/n: sooooo this was meant to be self-indulgent porn. but i should know by now i can't write porn without plot. it's my curse. also i just love carmy so much that i wanted to spend some more time with him. this might only be two chapters, but i have a feeling it'll be more than that. only time will tell!

read on ao3!

“Well well well, if it isn’t Food & Wine’s Best New Chef.”

Carmy’s head snaps up, almost comically, ready to fight whoever is bringing up that damn accolade yet again. It’s been almost ten years, for christ’s sake.

You smirk playfully as his eyes find you. His soften and you see the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. But Carmen Berzatto doesn’t show his emotions easily. Thankfully, you’ve known him long enough to be able to read the ghosts of expressions that play at his face. You didn’t just learn how to cook at culinary school. You learned how to decipher your enigmatic friend. That’s what years of cooking together side by side will do.

Carmy comes around the counter, ignoring the obvious stares from his co-workers. He pauses in front of you, then pulls you into a tentative hug. Your smirk disappears, replaced by a comical look of surprise. Chefs aren’t known for being touchy-feely people, Carmy least of all. But you haven’t seen him in almost a year, people change.

You awkwardly return the hug, which ends all too quickly. Carmy studies you, like you’re an old recipe he hasn’t attempted in years but once knew by heart. “Long time, no see, Rosy.”

Smiling at the nickname he gave you in school, you answer back with his pet name. “Right back at you, Bear.”

*******

Carmy introduces you to his staff. Everyone greets you with different levels of enthusiasm. Marcus, the pâtissier, grins at you as he shakes your hand, instantly offering you a piece of his cake to give your thoughts on.

Before you can enthusiastically oblige him, Carmy is pulling you away to continue the introductions you know he’s feeling awkward about. Syd, the sous chef, offers you a half smile but seems much too busy for you. As a chef yourself, you take no insult to this. The food comes first.

Tina also has no time for you, giving you a quick once over before yelling at whoever stole her stock pot. Richie smiles knowingly at Carmy as he greets you, calling “sweetheart” and offering to show you how the kitchen works.

“She’s Chef de Cuisine at a three Michelin star restaurant, cousin. I think she knows how a kitchen works.”

Richie holds up his hands “I don’t even know what the fuck that means. Was just being friendly.”

Last is Ebra, who gives you his name then asks you point blank if you and Carmy are dating. Carmy sighs a Jesus fucking Christ as he pulls you into his office and slams the door shut.

Once safe from prying eyes, Carmy quickly clears off a pile of papers from a chair and offers the seat to you. He takes one opposite you and lets out a sigh. Running his hands through his wild hair, he smiles ruefully. “Sorry. They’re a great staff but they can be…a lot.”

After the kitchens you had been in through the years and the jerks you had worked with, the crew at The Original Beef of Chicagoland seemed like goddamn angels. “Nah, they seem nice. If just a bit nosey.”

Carmy nods, huffing out a small chuckle. You study his face, the familiarity of it making memories rush back from your shared past. With those memories comes a funny feeling in your stomach. For years, you had mistaken that feeling for anxiety. It was the only feeling that was always a constant in your life as a chef.

Carmy was always there alongside you, so you just assumed the environment caused that tingle in your gut. But slowly, you had realized the difference between your anxiety and your feelings for your friend.

The anxiety felt cold and empty, like a bottomless pit you might never claw your way out of. The feeling Carmy gave you was the polar opposite. His presence left you feeling warm and surrounded, completely taken care of. You had missed that this past year…

You could dwell on your crush later. Right now, your main focus was getting your friend back in your life. He stares at you and you realize you’ve been gawking at him for entirely too long. “Not that I’m not happy to see you but…” He glances to the clock.

“Lunch rush, huh?” it’s less of a question from you and more of a commiseration. No matter how long you’ve been in a kitchen, the lunch rush is always the most dreaded. Carmy nods, fidgeting in his seat.

“I know you’re busy but I’m gonna be in town for a bit and just wanted to say ‘hey’” it sounds lame. Saying ‘hey’ after not speaking for a year is pretty weird.

Carmy’s eyebrows knit together in worry. “Work ok?”

You hurriedly nod, sorry you caused him anxiety when he already looks so run down. “No, no. It’s good. Great, actually. We’re opening up a location here and I’m taking point on it.”

His worry doesn’t fall away like you expect it to but he nods “That’s great, Rose. Happy for you.” You choose to believe his words rather than his expression.

“Thanks…” you look into his eyes and search them for permission for the next subject you want to broach. You want to talk about why you’ve both been so silent this past year when you’d been best friends for the last decade.

But his eyes dart back to that fucking clock and you decide against it. This conversation deserves all the time it needs.

You get up, understanding Carmy’s time is precious and you’ve already eaten up enough of it. He jumps up, more worry etched into his face. “You’re leaving already?”

You look between him and the clock. “I just…lunch rush, right?”

Carmy nods dejectedly. “Yeah, those sandwiches won’t make themselves.” As if on cue, you hear a pot fall in the kitchen and the sounds of muffled yells. Carmy once again runs his hand through his hair, seemingly as a way to self-soothe.

You’ve seen your friend stressed beyond belief before. But this is something different. He looks like his tether to sanity is fraying and fast. It breaks your heart and so before you know what you’re doing, you’re blurting out an offer that you’re sure he’ll refuse.

“I can help with prep if you want? Many hands and all that.” You see him thinking it over, certain he’ll rebuff your offer. He was never one to ask for assistance. But he surprises you with a gentle nod.

“That would be great, Chef. Thank you.”

******

The lunch rush is…insane. You’re not sure what you had been expecting but it wasn’t this. How much business could one little hole in the wall sandwich shop do you had thought before service started.

The answer is a whole fucking lot.

Regulars crowd the tiny shop as tourists meekly try to edge their way in as well.

You help with prepping the vegetables, knowing it’s one of the most hated jobs in the kitchen. It’s also the perfect job for staying out of the way but being helpful.

The rest of the staff instantly love you for this except for Tina, who studies you as if trying to figure out what your angle is. You’d love to explain to her the only angle you have is spending time with your best friend whom you’ve missed dearly. But before you can open your mouth, Carmy is yelling out for more orders and it’s back to business.

At the end of the rush, the kitchen is in shambles. Your face is flaming hot and flushed, like a tomato come to life. It’s how you earned your nickname in culinary school. You hated it at first but then learned to love it, realizing you looking like this meant you’d put in the work, got the job done and made the customers happy.

Everyone else in the kitchen looks completely exhausted. But the strange thing is they’re happy. You’re not used to these vibes. Exhaustion is always a given. Maybe you’ve worked in mostly toxic environments but usually by now, everyone would be at each other’s throats.

It’s not to say the chefs here don’t give each other shit. An outsider listening in on them during the rush would have thought the day would end in murder. But to an insider, that’s kind of just how kitchens sound. But the chefs at Original Beef are able to weather the insanity of lunch and still crack jokes and thank each other for their hard work at the end of it.

You watch them happily as you all clean up, feeling like one of the crew already. Watching Carmy leading them makes you long for the days where you two worked together. But you know that’s probably never going to happen again and you push aside the brief sadness and revel in the joy that you got to work side by side with him again, if just for the day.

“Thank you for your help, Chef,” Carmy leans against the counter next to you, smiling tiredly.

You take off your blue apron and fold it neatly, handing it back to him. “Anytime, Chef.”

You’re due back at your hotel to change before you meet up with the investors. Once again, the tension is back between you two. God you miss the days where there was never an awkward moment between you and Carmy.

He accepts the apron, looking small as he clutches it to his chest. “Duty calls?”

You sigh soullessly. Cooking is what you excel at, not business. You were flattered when your boss asked you to take responsibility for the opening of your Chicago location. You just didn’t realize how much handshaking and negotiating you’d have to do. “Time to wine and dine the investors. Really important, world peace negotiating level type stuff.”

Carmy smiles at you. It’s tiny and doesn’t quite reach his eyes but it’s a start towards what you two used to have. “You’re putting the work in. Gotta get through all that bullshit to get to the stuff that really matters.” The food.

He’s right and you nod, accepting that fact. You don’t want to leave him yet but it’s your turn to be distracted by the clock. “It was great cooking with you again, Chef.”

Carmy smiles again but this time the sadness under the surface is evident. “Just like old times, huh?”

“Yeah. Well, I’m in town for the next few weeks at least so…”

“Dinner sometime? Or, you know, any meal that works best for you.”

You think on the offer and counter your return. “Hey why don’t we do get brunch tomorrow? Mimosas are on me.”

You let out at laugh at Carmy’s look of horror that quickly morphs into a relieved grin as he realizes you’re taunting him. “Fuck you.”

Grabbing your jacket, you throw a “dinner sometime would be great” over your shoulder.

Your chest feels full in the best way as you realize you and your best friend are back together again. All might not be right with the world but it’s as close to perfection as it’ll ever be. You stop and turn to the tired chef.

“Hey, Bear?”

He watches you, blue eyes sparkling. “Yes, Rose”

“Fuck you, too.”

It’s as close as I love you and I missed you that you’ll get. Carmy grins as you laugh and turn reluctantly towards the exit. Neither of you have ever been good at conveying your emotions. But you know he can read between the lines and decipher what you really meant. He just hopes you know it’s what he feels too.

******

#ok im on my third rewatch of the bear someone help me #going to be out of town a lot these next few weeks but hope to get the next chapter up asap #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #the bear #the bear fx #allie writes #carmy berzatto

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kimi-twstheadcanons · 1 year

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Holiday Magic

-You decided to spend some time in the Queendom of Roses for the Holidays. For a fun trick, you asked Deuce where Ace lived to surprise him and leave Grim with Deuce for the day. Honestly, his place is a lot more cozy than you thought.

Pronouns: They/Them

“Dang dad, you didn’t have to yell so loud. …Huh wait is that? (Y/N)?!”

•

“OUT! NOW!”

“Aww, come on little bro! I wanna meet your little friend from school!” Ace’s older brother whined as Ace pushed him out of the hallway of their house and away from his room. You had gone to visit him for the Holidays just to see what it would be like, but you had completely forgotten about his older brother. You hadn’t thought that his brother would be over for the Holidays. Or maybe he lived there? Whatever the situation may be is beyond your current knowledge and not your place to intrude. But you hadn’t thought that Ace would be so adamant about his brother being as far away from you as possible.

“Sorry about that, he can be a real jerk sometimes.” Ace apologizes as he walks back into the room. He closes the door behind him and continues to sit on the floor next to his bed since you were already sitting on his bed.

“So that was your older brother huh? He seems fun. Your dad seems nice too. Considering he’s the one who welcomed me in the house in the first place.” You say as you look around his room. You see his closet, his dressers with cards and fake wands on them, etc. He even has one of those magician top hats sitting on a hanger. As you look around Ace subtly tries to pick things up to make his room seem less messy. When his dad called him out of his room saying there was a surprise he hadn’t expected to see you. He rushed back into his room and threw things around to hide them but he couldn’t get it to be as clean as he wanted it to be. He wasn’t one of those boys whose rooms were gross and smelt awful, but more of an “I’ll leave it for now” and then never getting to it until three days later, type of guy. He knew there wasn’t much to fix but he didn’t want you to never allow him to stay at Ramshackle ever again.

“Yeah, my brother is pretty chill I guess. But since you’re here he’s going to try and make fun of me or embarrass me.”

“What can he do that you don't already do to yourself?” You ask jokingly.

“Hey!” He whined back. You laughed it off and stood up from your seat on the bed to walk around his room. You knew he liked magic tricks by magicians but why do all this when he can use real magic?

“Hey, Ace. Why don’t you show me a magic trick?” You suddenly suggest to him. He looks at you surprised, not expecting you to suggest that. He ponders for a moment, trying to decipher if you were being serious or not.

“I mean I could. But most of these tricks are to entertain kids. With the things we’ve seen, you wouldn’t really be impressed.” He explains. You think for a brief moment before answering back to him.

“Well, haven’t you learned any extra tricks of magic from your brother? He went to NRC too, right? Or maybe you picked something up from some third years in Heartslabyul?”

“I mean, yeah I picked up some things. But I’m not sure if you’d like them.” He says as he grabs his magic pen that was sitting on his nightstand.

“Surprise me. Entertain your guest.” You tease.

“Hey, don’t get cocky now.” He jokingly warns you. You chuckle and lean on a wall, waiting for him to do something. Ace steadies himself and begins to gently wave his wand around the room. Slowly vines begin to appear on his walls creating a pattern. You realized what he was doing when the vines began to get fluffier. This boy used the opportunity to decorate his room for the Holidays!

“Wait, dude, how did you learn to do that?” You question him in amazement.

“My brother taught me the start, and I improved the rest.” He explained as he finished up the details.

“Does that mean you studied? Whoa, that’s a new one.”

“If you keep insulting me I’m going to kick you out.” Ace threatened. You again laughed it off, knowing he wouldn’t dare do such a thing to you. Yet you smiled as you admired the little trick he did. That’s when Ace had an idea. With his magic pen still in hand, he gently waved it to his lamp and back to you as trails of light followed the direction he was pointing at. By that point, you hadn’t noticed what was going on. But you soon did when the light turned into little spheres and began to collect atop your head. You tried to touch it but felt nothing. You hear a click next to you and turn to the direction of the sound, to find Ace with his phone out and taking a picture of you. As soon as your eyes met the camera you heard another click, indicating he had taken another one.

“Wow, these are pretty good! Maybe we should send them to the group chat.” Ace teased as he looked at the pictures on his phone.

“What group chat?”

“…uh…oh look how the lights look against your hair color! Very pretty, right?” He tries to distract you as he shoves his phone into your face. You puff your cheeks in annoyance but let the topic go nonetheless. You look at the picture he’s showing you and indeed, you did look extremely attractive somehow. You’re not sure if it was the crown made of lights on your head or if Ace had edited slightly before showing you, but even you had to admit that it looked great!

“Illusion magic! A pretty neat trick if I do say so myself! You look like a fairy! Real cute, (y/n).” He subconsciously complimented. You blink for a moment after processing it. Ace has complimented you before but he’s never said you were cute. You use this as the perfect time to tease him again.

“Ace, did you just say I’m cute~?”

“…that’s it. I’m kicking you out.”

“No~, please! I’ll stop, I promise! That was the last one!” You pleaded with a smile on your face. He sent the lights on your head away and proceeded to walk over to his bedroom door. You held onto his arm to stop him while having a laughing fit. He pulled his door open and in came crashing his older brother and dad. They both fall flat on their faces and whine as the stinging pain affects their facial features.

“What the? What were you two doing?” Ace questioned. They both stay silent as they rub their heads and noses to ease the pain. After having put two and two together, Ace realizes that they were eavesdropping on you and him.

“Are you serious right now?”

“Hey~, listen little bro. We didn’t mean any harm! We just wanted to know your little friend here.” Ace’s older brother explains as he stands up and readjusts and dusts his clothes off. Ace’s dad does the same and straightens his composure.

“Come on, son. This is the first time we get to meet them! You talk about them all the ti-“ before Mr. Trappola could finish his sentence Ace covers his mouth with his hand.

“Alright, dad that’s enough, thanks!” Ace urged his father to be quiet as he proceeded to shove them away to get you out. He leads you to the front door and grabs his scarf and jacket to put on. He throws on his shoes and opens the door for you to walk through after you got your jacket on and everything settled.

“Okay, me and (y/n) are going to Deuce’s!” Ace yells into his house before rushing out and closing the door behind him. He grabs your arm and proceeds to speed walk away from his house, you two linking arms. You giggle at his embarrassed behavior.

“Well, that could have gone worse.” You tease him with a warm grin that is the complete opposite of the chilled air. He rolls his eyes and sighs in relief at getting you two out of there.

“Honestly, I’m glad it didn’t.”

#twst disney #twst #Twisted Wonderland #Heartslabyul #Ace Trappola #twst x y/n #twst x you #twst x reader #Twisted Wonderland Holiday Special #Holiday Special #Let’s pretend this wasn’t late ;-;

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speuradair · 2 years

Text

Maintenance Code | M.A.

Word Count: 732

Contains: fluff, pre-bite of 83, disregard for canon

Requested: nope, just super self-indulgent lmao

“Do you plan on spending your entire paycheck on that stupid machine?”

Your eyes barely even move from where they’re fixated on the crane game before you, not needing to look into the reflection on the glass to know the exact expression your co-worker was giving you.

“Michael, I don’t have time for this right now. I’ve only got ten minutes before my break is over and if I don’t have that damn fox plushie by then I’m going to-“

“You’ve been at it all week, how much have you spent on this?” The soft laugh he gave only furthered your frustration. “You know those are only worth, what- $2 tops? You’re just paying to work here, at this point.”

You didn’t dignify that with a response. You knew it was dumb to be so fixated and annoyed by a cheap ‘Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza’ branded prize, but it was a matter of principle now- you’d sunk all of your tips and every minute of your break this week on trying to win it, and you weren’t about to give up now.

The claw reached down into the pile of stuffed mascots and caught the orange fox only to release it again, the arcade machine blinking and giving a series of downwards beeps in mockery of your repeated failure. Swearing under your breath you were about to stick another 50¢ into the slot when Michael caught your hand.

“Let me try.”

You gave him a skeptical look as if trying to decipher if he was mocking you. Finding only sincerity and that soft smile that never failed to set your heart racing, you finally surrendered with a nod. “It’s harder than it looks, you know..” you grumbled indignantly, crossing your arms and stepping aside enough to let him take over the controls.

He dropped two quarters of his own into the machine and it lit up again. The blue and white lights lit up again, casting his handsome features in neon light. Though those same lights had seemed grating just moments before, they suddenly seemed so flattering when the subject wasn’t your tired eyes, but rather the familiar expression of your boyfriend. It was almost criminal how effortlessly attractive he was- hair falling perfectly around his face, brows creasing just slightly in concentration, the muscles in his hands twitching- it was unfairly distracting. How were you supposed to focus on work (or your clearly much more important task of outsmarting an arcade machine) when he was here?

You were snapped out of your short-lived daydreams by the sound of the game playing its song again- not the one it had been repeating for you, however, but rather a cheerful, victorious tune.

Holy shit, he’d actually won it.

Your lips parted slightly in shock, no words managing to slip out as you watched him lean down towards the prize door beneath the joystick panel before turning to you with a slight smirk.

“Wha- how the hell did you do that?!”

“Huh, I guess I’m just good at this game.” Handsome as he may be, that cocky smirk was bordering on obnoxious now.

Michael had been so distracting, actually, that he’d managed to enter the maintenance code without you noticing. With it he was able to override the forced looseness of the claw and retrieve the toy without any of the trouble you’d been having.

You rolled your eyes and reached for it, only for him to hold it over his head before you could actually get it. “Ah ah ah- I deserve a reward first, don’t I?”

“Ugh, You’re such an asshole.” Despite your weak insult and mostly petty frustration, you leaned in to give him a quick kiss all the same. He then traded the fox in his hands for the ability to place his hands on your hips.

“An asshole who just won that prize for you,” he reminded, voice lacking any sign of remorse. “Pretty romantic, I think.”

You just rolled your eyes, brushing him off with a dismissive wave of your free hand. You hated that he was right. Though, no matter how annoying he may be, you couldn’t deny the effect he had on you. He was a jerk sometimes, but he was your jerk.

A jerk who just saved you from going home from work at the end of the week with no paycheck to show for it.

#michael afton x reader #five nights at freddys #fnaf #fanfic #imagine #self insert #one shot #minific #rae writes

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devildomdisaster · 3 years

Note

Idk if you read Lore Olympus but chapter 129 gave me an angsty request idea.

So Persephone, who’s the goddess of spring, goes into a hibernation-like state and when her emotions go out of control, she ends up growing her hair really long and her body sprouts a lot of plants from her; to the point of covering her and whatever area she’s in with her plants.

So I would like to request head cannons of the Brothers reacting to an MC who gets really sad whenever the brothers insult or threaten them and after several weeks of being berated by demons it causes MC to shut down and go to their room but mistakes a comfort spell with a plant curse that causes their hair and plants to grow continuously long. The plants fill up MC’s room and while they would normally be surprised at the mistake, they don’t care any more. They allow the plants to to grow, even wrap around their neck and body, and hopes the curse kills them off before the brothers notice as they go in the “hibernation” stage of the curse (The curse causes the victim to grow a lot of plants and vines from their body until they die, which can take a few days).

I’m sorry for being so long and descriptive, I just wanna see the Bros panic and feel guilty that MC felt pushed to do this to themselves but I understand if you don’t want to do it

I don't read Lore Olympus but you described the situation really well so I hope this is something close to what you wanted.

Comfort spell gone wrong

Lately, nothing seemed to be good enough for the demons. No matter what you did one of them would find something to berate you for.

“Mc, your grades are subpar even for an exchange student. You’ll have to try harder in order to not be a disappointment to Diavolo and myself.” Lucifer warned over breakfast.

“Mc, you burned dinner. You should learn to be a better cook.” Beel grumbled. As if you had ever seen any of these ingredients before ending up in the Devildom.

Even Mammon seemed to be in a particularly unpleasant mood. A never-ending string of complaints about how hard it is to protect an ordinary human. “Geez, you’re such a hassle human.”

Taking refuge in the library to study and to give Mammon a break from you proved disastrous and nearly deadly. Somehow you’d managed to spill your cup of tea all over an old somewhat rare text after Asmo had barged in and startled you. Your string of bad luck continued when Satan rounded the corner and saw the soggy tea-stained pages you’d been trying to decipher. In his fit of rage, he’d called you several unpleasant names and asked if you were “capable of doing anything right or if all humans are as stupid as you?” You’d left as quickly as you were able to avoid any more of his wrath.

No matter where you went you kept walking in on Belphie napping and without fail he’d say something nasty to you, that would make tears burn the backs of your eyes.

Levi had angrily called you a “useless normie,” who he wished would “never come back.” and had pushed you from his room with a slam of his door.

Even Asmo who usually just ignored you when he was upset found every reason imaginable to critique your every aspect. Physical and personality. Not a single one of which made you feel any more than worthless.

So was it any wonder when at the end of a long week you’d locked yourself in your room and decided to try that comfort spell you’d heard Solomon talking about? It seemed simple enough. But then your tears had blurred your vision as you’d recited the words and your Latin was still shaky at best. But it was just a few lines! And there was no way you were going to go to one of the brothers for comfort when they had seemed perfectly happy to make you miserable for the last few weeks.

You’d read the spell aloud and curled up hoping that the spell would kick in and you’d feel even just the slightest bit better. The blinding green light and sudden drop in energy was the first and only warning the spell had gone wrong. But being new to magic meant it still sapped your energy, so you didn’t stop to think something might be wrong. By the time you realized what was happening, everything was out of control. Plants had begun to sprout from your skin and the floor around you, growing and growing. With each inch they grew you felt your exhaustion creep up and consume you. You were just so tired. Your eyes fluttered closed. This was wrong! You forced your eyes open again. You need to fix this. The spell! But a short nap wouldn’t hurt, would it? You’d have more energy after you woke up. Then you could go get one of the brothers. Satan would know how to fix this. Or Lucifer! He’d clean the spell up easily. Yes, after you woke up…

Lucifer hadn’t seen you all weekend. He figures you’re most likely studying. But you don’t show up for meals and none of his brothers have seen you either… and oh Diavolo! He can feel the spell from the dining room. How did he not notice sooner? The cold pulling sensation of the spell, like it was sucking the warmth and life from its surroundings.

When Lucifer reaches your door Mammon is already there. Knocking and shouting for you, but there's no answer. He all but breaks your door down, his brothers behind him, and finds you at the center of the spell. Unresponsive and covered in the plants using your energy to grow. The plants had begun climbing up the walls and twisting through your hair, sending out snow-white flowers.

“Beel! Don’t!” Lucifer warns as Beel reaches out to pull a handful of plants from you. “We don’t know what did this and what will happen to Mc if we just rip the spell off like that.”

“Lucifer, Mc did this to themself,” Satan points to the open spellbook. “It looks like they got a comfort spell mixed up.”

Fortunately, your last tired thoughts were correct and Lucifer is able to break the spell quickly. You wake surrounded by the brothers.

Lucifer:

All this happened for a comfort spell? Because you didn’t feel like you could come to him, to any of them?

He’s so sorry Mc. Enough that as he leans down to pick you up out of the mess of withering plants you can feel tears fall onto your face.

“Nothing I did was good enough for you Lucifer. Any of you. I just wanted to feel… I just wanted-”

His heart breaks when he realizes this is his brother’s fault, his fault. “You are always good enough, Mc. Much more than I could ever ask you to be, and if I ever made you feel like you weren't. No, the fact that I made you feel like you weren’t, means I have been truly terrible.”

You’re choking back your own tears now and you curl further into his arms as he carries you down the hall. “You said I was a disappointment.”

“My dear Mc, you have never been, nor could you ever be a disappointment to me. Forgive me for ever making you feel as if you were.”

Lucifer takes you to his bathroom and draws you a bath to wash away the last of the plant matter from your body.

Afterward, he’ll bring you anything you ask for. He wants to wrap you in his arms but doesn’t want to push you, so he asks softly if he can hold you.

He’ll spend weeks trying to make this up to you, even after you forgive him, he’ll be sure to tell you how much he loves you more often than he did before.

Mammon:

Shit human! Why didn’t you come to him? He loves you so much and oh. He made you feel like a burden.

How could he be so stupid when he knows how his brothers make him feel?

Mammon begs for your forgiveness in front of all his brothers.

“Please can ya forgive me? I never meant to make ya feel like a burden. You're the only human I- I want to protect you Mc. I’m so sorry.”

Mammon helps you up and since your room is covered in plants he offers to let you sleep in his room for the night.

He wraps you in blankets and brushes the hair from your face with trembling fingertips.

There are still a few stubborn leaves sticking to your face and in your hair so Mammon takes a warm washcloth and wipes them from your face before gently untangling the plants from your hair.

You’ll be getting little gifts and tokens of mammon’s affections for the foreseeable future.

Levi:

He threw you out of his room when you came to him for comfort and the guilt at seeing you almost die because of it is eating him alive.

He feels frozen

Maybe you would be better off without an otaku shut-in like him. He starts avoiding you like the plague.

You start to think that Levi is so disgusted with the fact that you did that spell that he doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore.

Despite this Levi still checks up on you. He wants to know that you are ok, he just does it without you knowing.

He’ll ask his brothers about you and discreetly glance at you during meals to make sure you’re eating enough and look healthy.

A few days later when your favorite and manga anime start showing up outside your door you confront Levi. “Are you mad at me? Do you just not want to be around me after what happened? Levi, I miss you!”

He is shook, and he can’t believe he messed up so badly.

He’s happy that he can invite you to hang out again, and he makes sure to spend long nights gaming or watching movies with you until you fall asleep against him. He’ll even stutter out how much he treasures his time with you, blushing fiercely all the while.

Satan:

Satan feels anger swell up inside him. How could he have let this happen? How could no one have seen how upset you were?

Once the spell has been dissolved he is at your side instantly. Brushing vines from your skin. His fingers are shaking in anger but his touch is so gentle.

When both you and your room are cleaned up Satan sits at your bedside, book in hand, reading to you.

He just wants to be close to you now. He wants you to know how much he cares about you but is still too worked up to get his thoughts out properly.

Eventually, his thoughts calm and he stops reading in the middle of a sentence. “Mc, I am so sorry. I never meant to make you feel unwanted. Every day I spend with you is infinitely better than a day without you. I know the spell was a mistake but… we almost lost you. I almost lost you.”

He wants to talk about what pushed you to do this. He won’t push but he really does think that he will be better able to help you if he understands.

Satan makes sure to spend more time with you from now on. He makes a conscious effort to check his temper at the door and be with you when you need him.

Sometimes he’ll just read to you until one of you confides in the other in quiet voices.

Asmo:

As you blink your eyes open Asmo gently brushes some plants from your cheek.

You are so pale and his heart breaks as you flinch away from him. You feel like a mess and you know you must look like one too so curl your body away from him trying to hide. Trying to avoid his critical gaze.

This is the moment Asmo knows he screwed up.

He draws his hand back, for a moment, before reaching out to you again. Cupping your cheek and wiping your tears away with perfectly manicured hands.

Lucifer has him take you to his bathroom to clean up while the rest of the brothers work to clear the plants from your room.

Asmo is quiet for a long while as he untangles plants from your hair.

“You’re so loved, Mc,” he says softly. “You are.” he insists when you shake your head no.

“More than you could ever know, and it’s our fault for not telling you. My fault for not making you feel worthy.”

After this incident, Asmo wants to make sure you know how beautiful you are. He starts self-care days once a week that soon turn into whole family affairs. Each week different combinations of his brother attend and you all work to pamper each other.

Asmo makes sure nothing like this happens again, he never wants to be part of the reason you feel unloved ever again.

Beel:

At first, Beel thinks you did this on purpose. Once the brothers realize you messed up the spell he is less angry but no less distraught.

Once you wake up, he wants to take you to get desserts. He’s heard humans eat Chocolate/ other sweets to feel better. And this makes sense to him, food does make everything better.

But you don’t want to go to Madam Screams or the kitchen to make your own. You’re still so tired. Not to mention embarrassed that you screwed the spell up this bad.

And now they are all staring at you like they care so much when none of them had any time to notice how they were making you feel before.

When you become unresponsive to the brother’s questions and apologies Beel scoops you up in his arms and walks away with you.

Something about the way he holds you close to his chest and his warmth causes you to finally let go.

You bury your face in his shirt to muffle your crying.

“I just… I felt so alone! And… I...but no one” you gasp out shakily between sobs.

Beel soothes you with soft murmuring as he gently cards his fingers through your hair and strokes down your back.

Once your crying quiets he starts to speak “Don’t do that again. You can always come to me Mc. I’m so sorry you felt like you couldn’t”

Belphie:

Belphie thinks it’s a joke at first. “Man, how could they mess up this bad?”

Then he sees Lucifer’s panicked expression and it hits him how serious this is.

Belphie is immediately by your side. Hands frantically feeling your wrist for a pulse.

After Lucifer breaks the spell and your eyes flutter open Belphie is filled with relief until a wave of guilt washes through him.

He can’t believe he fucked up so badly again. Sure this time he didn’t directly cause you physical harm, but he did play a role in causing you to almost die again.

“I am so very sorry Mc, I never meant to hurt you.”

He does everything he can think of to make it up to you. Anything you ask him for, as long as it’s within his power, is yours. No questions asked.

He asks permission just to hold your hand for weeks afterward as if he thinks you’ll come to your senses and decide you don’t want anything to do with him.

He wants to comfort you so bad.

To make sure you don’t feel like this again Belphie pulls you away to nap with him as often as he can get away with it. Most likely only a few times a week (much less often than he would like). Sometimes he uses this time just to talk with you. Others you really do nap, and Belphie curls himself around you. Occasionally he enters your dreams while you nap together to make sure no nightmares can touch you.

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from-a-reckless-writer · 3 years

Text

The first tell was the body next to her. The second was the warmth. Her bed was never warm these days. The first two things had already clued her in that there was something off. Off was an understatement. She’s certain she passed out on her office floor clutching a bottle of alcohol and Jess was going to kill her in the morning. So, how the fuck-

The longer she stays there, eyes closed, feeling the breathing of a stranger, the more she’s convinced she’s suffered from amnesia.

Beyond scared she opens her eyes, hoping, praying that she didn’t bring home some idiot from a cheap lesbian bar. Her eyes land on blonde hair and an all too familiar set of defined shoulders and Lena lets out a gasp of surprise. She sobers up, jerks upright. Jolting the pair of arms wrapped around her waist and making her companion wake abruptly.

“Lena- Wha- Why’re you awake?”

“Kara-” That was all she was capable of as of the moment, because Kara was sitting up and flicking on the bedside lamp, letting Lena glimpse the small clock on the nightstand that read 4: 00 a.m.

Kara’s voice was all raspy and sleep-laden and she was looking at Lena with concern. She was looking at Lena like they’ve done this all the time. And they did.

Once.

She remembers jerking awake screaming from nightmares and Kara holding her; remembers waking up to Kara’s screams and holding her.

But this-

This wasn’t right.

“Did you have a nightmare?” She asks, crinkle forming. And Lena just stares and stares and-

“Kara, this isn’t real.”

“What? Oh, baby, come here. That dream must’ve really done a number on you, huh?” Kara coos and she gathers Lena in her arms. Lena can do nothing but melt and follow Kara’s movements, her mind is still reeling.

Trying to decipher the events that had led here. This wasn’t real. This-

A tremble shakes the bed. Lena’s heart rate ticks up, Kara seems to have heard because she’s tightening her embrace and more words come out of her lips, but Lena doesn’t hear a word of it.

“I’m here, you’re safe. I’m here.”

Lena finally finds her voice and she slowly tries to extricate herself from Kara. She can feel her hesitating to let her go.

“This isn’t real,” She repeats and Kara is ready to protest, “Please, Kara. Please listen to me?”

She nods. Kara was never one to deny Lena anything, anyway. Lena sighs a breath of relief.

“Thank you. Uh- I think this isn’t real, Kara. I think I’m inside a Black Mercy induced dream.”

And as if it heard a cue, the bed and the rest of the room vibrates as if ashamed of being called-out so easily.

“No, no, no. You aren’t. You’re real. I’m real, You-” Kara is scrambling for words, “Look- Here, feel this?” Kara frantically grabs her hand and presses it to her own chest, “Can you feel it? This is real. Don’t say it isn-”

Lena feels like sobbing, because it does feel real. The strong beats underneath her palm thundering through her very soul. It feels so so so fucking real. She’s never wanted something to be real as bad as this. She wants to believe, because Kara is looking at her with those baby blue eyes and she wants to say that ‘Yes, I believe it real. We’re real.’

She can’t.

“Kara, the bed is trembling. Can you feel it? This isn't real. You’re in my head.”

It was brutal. She watches Kara’s face fall. She retracts her hand back.

“How are you so sure that this isn’t real?”

The question was asked with so much fear.

“Because,” she starts shaky but certain, “I hurt you, Kara. And that is the one thing that I can never forget.”

It was true. She can never forget the way Kara crumpled to her feet. Can’t forget the way the Girl of Steel broke by Lena’s hands. Can’t forget the tear-stricken face.

Can’t forget the pleas.

“Don’t do this, Lena. Please, come on. Please, stay. Don’t leave. Not you, please I can’t-”

“Oh.”

The silence was deafening. She can’t look at Kara as she processes everything. So she takes the time to survey the room. And God, every inch of the room screams how much they’ve stitched their lives with the other.

There were books haphazardly stacked in one corner, a painting easel in the other, Kara’s cape shining in the dim light of the lamp, Lena’s old MIT sweatshirt at the foot of the bed.

A wedding portrait. They were married here. Fuck.

Lena chances a glance at her left hand and not only does she find a ring but also a matching gold bracelet. A Kryptonian mating band. Now, she notices that Kara’s ring was worn on her neck next to her Mother’s necklace Lena supposes she wears it underneath the Super suit and a matching bracelet sitting on her left wrist.

“I’m sorry,” Lena says ‘for everything.’ she wants to add but she remembers this isn’t her Kara. She doesn’t have a Kara. She doesn’t have any part of Kara. Not anymore.

“What are you sorry for? If anyone could figure out they were inside a parasite induced dream, it would be you. You’re a genius but you’re dumb for apologizing. You should reject the fantasy now, Lena. You’ll die.”

Damn it, even here.

Even here Lena is still hurting her and Kara still wants to save her.

The tears finally fall. The sobs come next.

“Oh, Lena. Come here. It’s okay. I’m here,”

“I- I know, I’ll die but God, Kara, I want to stay here. I- You’re my everything, you know?”

“I know, Lena. I’ve always known. You don’t have to die because I’ll always know. You need to get out of here now,” She whispers against Lena’s temple and Lena takes the time to breathe her in. God, even the scent smells real.

“Y-you’re right. I should go, but-” Lena doesn’t know how to ask for what she wants. That was what her therapist had said the first time she booked an appointment.

“But what?”

“Tell me about our life here first?” At that Kara pulls away a bit to look into her eyes; gauging if this is really what Lena wants.

It is, it’s what she wants but more than that it’s what she needs. The reassurance that somewhere out there, there was a world in which they made each other happy. That in a universe out there--whether real or not--the both of them had a taste of a happy ending.

“Okay, okay yeah. But first, promise me you’ll get out of here as fast as you can, once we’re done?”

She was never one to deny Lena Luthor anything, remember? She was more than happy to recount the entirety of their love story to her.

“Thank you.” And Lena can’t help but press a soft kiss to Kara’s cheek.

“Where do you want to start?”

“Do we have a dog?”

“Krypto,” Kara says with a shy smile as if she knows that Lena would laugh at the goofy sentimental name choice, “And a cat, Streaky Jr., you don’t allow pets in the bedroom so,”

“I’m impressed we have the time for pets,” Lena whispers as she shifts closer to Kara in the bed. Heart now beating in a steady calm rhythm, gone was the panic earlier, now replaced by a sense of security, no matter how false it is.

“Well, you decided to distribute most of the workload to Jess--who you promoted to board member by the way, and to Sam. And since, Wednesday is my first day as Editor-in-Chief, my schedule’s not as busy as it was.”

It was nice to hear that. The way they have obviously chosen to grow into themselves together. She was glad that in her perfect world she hadn’t forgotten about Jess and Sam.

“Oh, and also you spend most of your days in our home lab with Jack anyway. So, the pets get plenty of love.”

“Jacky’s alive here?”

“Yeah, you reversed the nanotech matrix. You saved him.”

And the crying fest begins anew.

“I miss him, so much.”

“I’m sorry.”

Lena doesn’t have to explain her reaction, Kara knows how to read her anyway.

At the reminder of Jack, Lena finds the courage to ask a question she’s never thought she would want to ask.

“What about Lex and Lillian?”

“Well, your brother’s probably drunk in an L-Corp gala somewhere and Lillian’s probably plotting about how she’s going to insult my next article-”

So, she still has her brother and it seems like Lillian’s not much of a xenophobe as she is in reality but she senses that she still is a bad mother with the way Kara talks.

“When did we get married?”

“Two years after we first met. We had two, actually.”

“I’m guessing I insisted on a Kryptonian wedding and you insisted on a human one?”

She knows that one, because she’s been thinking about it. Well, at least she was before everything went to shit. She wanted to give Kara a Kryptonian ceremony. She had wanted to show her that Lena would be honored to share everything Kara’s world had to offer.

“Are we-” she hesitated, “Are we happy, Kara?”

She wasted no time in answering, “The happiest. You make me the happiest soul alive in this universe and in any universe.”

Fresh tears fall down the side of her face and Kara wipes them away before speaking, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Well, I guess it’s only fair.” Lena sniffles and prepares her mind for what she knows will be an emotionally-charged exchange not that this has been an easy conversation thus far.

“Out there, are you happy?”

Lena’s air is stolen from her. Well, she doesn’t know how to answer that one.

“Sometimes,” she whispers. She’s not happy most of the time but sometimes she is.

Sometimes, Ruby calls her to tell her about a science project or sometimes Nia sends her meme even though she hasn’t been to Game Nights for almost a year now, sometimes Brainy takes her out for a drink and she feels like she’s got a little brother to call her own.

So yeah, sometimes. Because the thought of perpetual happiness without Kara in her life is impossible.

“Only sometimes?” Kara asks, brow furrowing.

“Yeah, only sometimes. Not like it matters, anyway.”

“Well, of course it matters! Your happiness matters!” Kara exclaims, old habits die hard what can she say?

But then Kara takes a turn from defensive to curious again, “Am I happy? Out there? I mean?”

“I- I have no idea.”

Lena waits for the answer to sink in to Kara.

“What? What do you mean you have no idea?”

“Remember when I said I hurt you?”

Kara gives her a nod.

“Well, I haven’t seen you for a long time. I’ve been avoiding you. Normally people tend to not seek out their exes, you know.”

She’s trying to keep it lighthearted. She’s trying not to let this Kara see how much she craves her presence, how much she wishes she could see Kara again. Don’t get her wrong, Supergirl is plastered every minute on the news, but-

That’s not who she wants to see.

“She’s miserable,” Kara answers point-blank leaving no room for argument, “If you’ve been avoiding me, I’d be miserable.”

That has Lena speechless.

Because miserable would be an understatement of how things had been ever since they ended things.

Ever since Lena ended things.

“I don’t like not being with you, you know?” Kara states as if Lena doesn’t feel the same.

“I- I don’t like that either.”

“I know.”

She has to go. Lena knows she has to go but Kara is looking at her so sincerely and she can feel the love and she knows this is nothing but an intricate trap formed by an alien parasite slowly killing her. She has to go but-

“Lena!”

The both of them are startled and four eyes immediately land to-

Kara?! No, not Kara. Supergirl.

“Supergirl,” She says; surprise coloring her voice. She didn’t know Supergirl would go in and save her. Hell, she didn’t even know how she found her. But then again, she’s tried solving the puzzle that is Kara Zor-El but had never been able to piece it together.

Supergirl takes a look at her doppelganger in bed with Lena; a scene so familiar to her. A scene she’s replayed again and again in her head. A scene that was once their reality then a memory and now an illusion. She takes a step closer.

“Lena, we have to go, please. Please believe me, this isnt-”

“-real,” Lena finishes for her and Supegirl looks stunned, “I know, Supergirl. I know how to reject my own fantasy. I’ve had plenty of practice, after all.”

She aims for sarcasm, because fucking fucking hell, how the fuck does anybody expect her to function if there were two Kara’s in front of her?

That was asking for too much.

Beside her, Kara had gone silent. It seems like she knows what comes next. She knows what Supergirl intends to do. They’re the same person after all.

“It’s okay,” Lena hears Kara say and she breaks away from the hero’s gaze to find Kara looking at her with those eyes again.

“It’s okay, Lena,” She repeats, “It’s okay, Supergirl’s here. You’re gonna be safe. Stay safe for me, yeah?”

“Lena we have to go. Now,” Supergirl commands from the other side of the room.

“Okay, yeah,” She whispers then she turns to Supergirl, “Just give me a chance to say goodbye, please?”

Supergirl stares at her for a moment then at Kara then she gives them both a nod and turns back to give them privacy.

“Last question?”

“Hit me.”

“What’s your surname?”

“Luthor.”

Fuck. She shouldn’t feel this surprised but damn, hearing Kara confirm it? Lena doesn’t know how to feel about that. She doesn’t know how to feel about all of this.

“Just like you promised.”

“Just like I promised.”

The words are echoed back to her and Lena hates the way she’s noticed how stiff Supergirl’s posture had become in her periphery. Ignores the fact that Supergirl has superhearing.

“Thank you for indulging me, Kara.”

“Always.”

Goodbye, darling.”

And then everything fades to black.

author’s note: hiya lovely people send me an ask if i should write a follow-up for this.

#supercorp ficlet #supercorp ficlet of sorts ig?#it's another black mercy au y'all #it's very angsty #the reckless writer somewhat writes??#the reckless writer writes #lena luthor #kara danvers #supercorp #rcklss writes

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divinolenta · 3 years

Text

albedo, diluc + zhongli with a blunt s/o

character x male reader, fluff/sfw

additional notes: requested by a lovely anon! thank you for requesting ♡ my first time writing a male reader (although i feel like it’s more gender neutral here, my apologies), definitely not my best work so i hope it’s ok :( i’d love if you could give me some feedback on this so i can improve! i strive to make this blog more inclusive for all readers! please enjoy these headcanons and i’m sorry for the long wait :(

albedo:

albedo honestly doesn’t care

like diluc, he can be incredibly frank too, so he doesn’t mind it. to him, you’re transparent and easy to read, and he prefers it that way. albedo doesn’t have time nor does he care for embellished words with buried ulterior motives that he has to decipher

you easily earn his trust, and in turn, albedo sheds the distantly courteous demeanour of his and lets himself be vulnerable in your presence

loves having deep debates and discussions with you! this usually happens as you huddle under the blankets with him. he especially loves talking about his experiments because you’re not afraid to voice your opinion, unlike some of his more timid colleagues (he will definitely consider your input and use it to further improve and analyze his findings)

however, these conversations tend to extend late into the night (he would talk until the crack of dawn if he could, or if you’d let him), until he’s struggling to keep his eyes open and your words are barely audible, sentences slurring together due to fatigue

he doesn’t get irritated or offended either, he’ll seriously contemplate your words, even if they oppose his own beliefs (probably religiously believes to “agree to disagree”)

albedo lets himself melt and relax when he’s alone with you and shoves the turbulent thoughts to a side, nestling into bed with you and dropping his proper and polite facade that he shows in public, revealing a sleepy and affection man under. you’re the mirage he sees as he drags himself through a sandstorm, throat parched and rough, craving your soothing presence

paimon snickers when she sees the stark contrast between the way he treats you and others. albedo poorly veils his exasperation and annoyance when he converses with his peers and she loves to try to guess what he’s thinking, along with commentary

hardly gets jealous because you’re able to quickly reject others who are interested in you and he trusts you wholeheartedly. however, when albedo notices that you’re starting to get uncomfortable, he’ll come up and backhug you, chin propped on your shoulder as he stares disdainfully at the other person. “he’s mine.” (an individual who is indifferent to someone’s discomfort will never earn his trust and respect)

diluc:

at first, diluc is troubled by your bluntness

although he can be rather curt himself, he finds that your honesty is unsettling and comes off as, no offense, borderline rude

perhaps this is because he is constantly surrounded by individuals who allow sickly sweet lies to fall from their lips as freely as the flow of the river. he’s just accustomed to others feigning cordiality and benevolence in order to befriend him

when he finds out that you actually don’t have a penchant for pretty words he warms up to you, and finds that he truly enjoys your company. diluc feels like he can rant about anything, and perhaps it’s foolish of him, but his guard crumbles so easily when he speaks with you

let’s be honest, when you’re pining for each other, you’d probably be the first one to confess. there’s no other meaning to your words, and he’s pleasantly surprised, a blush creeping up his neck (it’s like pouring gasoline on to a fire, and watching it burn) as he accepts your confession with a shy smile

knowing that you’re so honest, diluc has a whole crisis when you tell him you love him or compliment him. his brain just short-circuits and he’s a stammering mess, too flustered to reciprocate the affection

bonus points if you make a snarky remark about how easy he is to fluster! (”heh, your face is as red as your hair, diluc.” “q-quiet.”)

more often than not, diluc enjoys the sight of you ignoring or abruptly cutting through kaeya’s advances and implications. he can’t hide his satisified smile when he hears the suave calvary captain go quiet after you tell him to shut up (swears he falls even deeper in love with you)

you’re both venti and kaeya’s worst nightmares. diluc’s bluntness and vexation? pfft easy to deal with. but you and diluc? the moment they’ve had more than a few drinks, you’re supporting diluc’s campaign to permanently kick them out the tavern, reminding them both terrifyingly of two fathers, arms crossed with stern scowls (on rare occasions, you’re on their side and they rejoice. diluc is irked by how they only listen to you)

zhongli:

zhongli isn’t put off by your bluntness, rather he welcomes it

personally, it just means that every word that slips past your lips are sincere and you truly mean it with all your heart

he loves it, really, especially when he rambles about the history of liyue and tells you stories, and you stare at him with such wonder in your eyes (your eyes, he reflects, could rival the celestial stars with the way they sparkle and shine)

when you bombard him with questions or comment on little details, zhongli falls in love all over again, because no matter how direct or gruff your words may be, he knows you have a heart of gold, infinite times more precious than mora or any jewel in the world

he finds it amusing when you get impatient in the middle of the story and interrupt him, begging him to get to the moral of the story

“get to the point, please” you groan, and zhongli chuckles, “have a bit more patience, my beloved.” (were the poetic metaphors and flowery language driving you insane? perhaps)

speaking of patience, his patience is infinite, i swear. the resilient and serene earth to combat the impulsive and fierce fire, zhongli listens to you with the patience of a saint, and your honesty and bluntness makes you so endearing in his eyes, all that runs through his mind is god you’re so cute and he loves you so much (practically makes heart eyes at you, cue childe gagging in the background)

loves giving you nicknames that suit your fiery and frank nature (my fireball…etc.)!

ever the gentleman, zhongli’s way of speech is sophisticated and quite flattering, so sometimes he has a hard time denying others, and he’s led cluelessly into a lion’s den.

thankfully, you’re there to stop that from happening, and most of the time, you’re able to steer him back to safety. you’re also there to bargain for him because zhongli is notorious for spending all his mora on beautiful, intricate and useless things (trick question: are you his boyfriend or are you his secretary?)

you’ve also probably tried to distance him from childe (who knows what the no-good fatui might be up to?) by directly asking him, positive that he was trying to get zhongli in his debt (he’s utterly confused: “why would i do that, my dear?” and probably tries to acquaint you with the harbinger)

pov: you’re sitting at the same table, subtly insulting each other while zhongli is distracted by his tea, sipping the fragrant liquid, paying no heed to you and childe

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inkblotsandpapertrails · 3 years

Text

Unstoppable Force, Immovable Object [K.O]

Tags: Enemies to lovers, slow burn,

Pairing: Kyoya Ootori x Reader

Description: For reasons you don’t care to express, you find yourself in need of sanctuary. It’s a shame you have to share that sanctuary with Kyoya Ootori, of all people.

A/N: i had an idea and i needed to run with it. also can yall tell i have a small grudge against bubbly reader personas?

“I want a job.”

Ootori Kyoya was way more intimidating in person.

You’d seen him around school, with Suoh Tamaki at his side and a notebook permanently in his hands. He had an air of mystery that you couldn’t deny was intriguing - you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about approaching him. But those thoughts were quickly extinguished whenever you got a good look at his eyes. They were pretty eyes, certainly - dark and intense and piercing. But no matter what was happening, he always looked like he had something better to do. He could wear as many polite smiles as he wanted, but the message in his eyes was clear – there were about a hundred things more important for him to do than stand here and talk to you. And now you were experiencing it first-hand.

“You want to be a host?” He said, more statement than question, as he gave you a quick look up and down. Whatever he was looking for, he definitely didn’t find it, as he simply turned back to his notebook and continued his constant scribbling. “I’m sorry, but Tamaki handles all host applications, and he has a very strict process.”

You furrowed your brow, just enough so that he wouldn’t think you were glaring at him (despite how much you wanted to).

“I don’t want to be a host. I want a job.”

Kyoya raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with your stubbornness.

“And what jobs do you expect the Host Club to give out, other than host itself?” He asked, not even bothering to look up from his notebook.

“Fujioka-san started as your errand-boy.” You said firmly, refusing to be brushed aside. “I can do that. I’m fast, I have an old cell I can use if you want to send me orders when I’m not around, I can even pay for all the supplies myself!”

Kyoya finally looked up from his book with his eyebrows ever so slightly knitted, a tiny sign that you’d gotten past his icy façade.

“May I ask why you’re so desperate to be an errand runner, of all things?”

“I am not desperate.” You seethed through gritted teeth. “I just need a place to stay after school and during lunch hours. No other club would let me join unless I took part in their activities – at least this way I don’t have to break my back building sets for the Drama Club.”

You decided to leave out your extra argument that the Host Club was one of the smallest clubs at Ouran, thus limiting the possibility of people annoying you while you were there. You knew it wasn’t really an insult, but it wasn’t exactly a compliment, either, and as mysterious as Kyoya was, you knew his pride was not to be trifled with.

“And why are you so in need of a place to stay?” Kyoya asked, a flickering flame of curiosity in his eyes, as if you were some abstract painting he couldn’t decipher the meaning behind. You frowned, suddenly feeling bare. You’re not entirely sure what he was trying to find, but nevertheless, you felt exposed.

“I don’t think that has anything to do with whether you should give me a job or not.” You said firmly, trying not to clench your fists. “If anything, this set up would be in your favour. If you have more time to spend in the club, you’ll bring in more clients, and therefore bring in more interest. I know you use that weird auction-point system on your website – more interested clients means more money. I don’t even have to spend time in the actual club room – you have a back rooms and supply closets, right? Your guests won’t even notice that I’m there.”

Kyoya frowned for a moment, before snapping his book shut and sighing heavily.

“You’re persistent, I’ll give you that.” He muttered as he opened the door to Music Room Three. “Tamaki! How do you feel about getting a new dog?”

Before you could yell indignantly at his ‘dog’ comment, Suoh Tamaki burst through the door, as eager and starry-eyed as ever.

“I knew you’d listen to my id-!” He paused once his eyes landed on you, his eager grin falling into a pout. “Kyoya, that’s not a dog!”

“I should’ve known you were too idiotic to remember that reference.” Kyoya sighed. “This is...” He trailed off, blinking behind his glasses. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I ever asked for your name?”

You fought the urge to punch the rich bastard in his smug face. He clearly had never intended on even giving you a chance – you had no idea what had changed his mind, but he obviously didn’t think it would be changed at all from the start. You decided to just be grateful that you did change his mind and leave it at that.

“My name is [Y/N] [L/N].” You said as politely as you could muster, tilting your body forward in a respectful bow. “I want to be your errand-runner. You don’t have to pay me, I just want a place to stay during lunch hours and after school. I promise to be quiet and respectful, and to not disturb your club activities or your guests. I hope you will at least consider it.”

You stepped out of your bow, making sure to keep your shoulders square and your chin up; the last thing you wanted was for the Host Club President to think you were too sloppy to set foot in their club room. Tamaki stared at you for a moment, his eyes wide, but unreadable, and holding his chin in his hand. You tried not to fidget under his gaze – he always looked so carefree around school, so this moment of strange seriousness was starting to get under your skin. Just as you were about to say ‘forget it’ and turn the other way, he broke out in a wide grin and tackled you into a hug.

“Kyoya, they’re so cute!” Tamaki squealed as you gasped for air in his grip. “Where did you even find this kid?! They’re so serious, I can barely handle it! Adorable, just adorable!”

“Let go of me!” You yelped as he began to spin you around. “What the hell’s up with you, I just wanted a job-!”

“Sempai, what are you doing?!”

A fist shot out from the corner of your eye and slammed into Tamaki’s head. He yelped and finally stopped that godforsaken spinning, but he kept you tight in his grip, holding you high enough that your feet didn’t touch the floor and you hung in his arms like a stuffed animal.

“Haruhiii!” Tamaki whined, rubbing his head with one arm. You immediately perked up at the opening and tried to wriggle your way out of his grip, but he wouldn’t budge. “That was so mean! I was just saying hi our newest member!”

“Newest member?”

You finally stopped searching for an escape from Tamaki’s death grip and landed your gaze on the person in front of you. They were of average height and build, with a short mop of tousled brown hair, and an evenly toned voice – it was basically impossible to decipher what gender they were. Still, they looked kind enough, with concerned eyes and a small, approachable smile, looking at you like you were a spooked animal they needed to calm.

“Hi.” The person said gently. “I’m Haruhi Fujioka. I hope Tamaki isn’t bothering you too much?”

You blinked in surprise. So this was the famous commoner that had taken the girls of Ouran Academy by storm. They were far kinder than you expected – you had kind of assumed everyone in the host club would be perfectly polished into some fake persona, but Haruhi seemed totally genuine.

“[Y/N] [L/N].” You said as politely as you could while being held like a ragdoll. You held out your hand and tried to smile. “It’s nice to meet you?”

Tamaki squealed from above you, tightening his grip around your waist.

“Aren’t they just adorable, Haruhi? I’m taking them under my wing, right this second! Don’t worry, you’re still daddy’s favourite, but-“

“[Y/N] here is going to be our new errand runner.” Kyoya interrupted. “Since you were the first to have that title, perhaps you could show them the ropes.”

“Errand runner?” A babyish voice asked. A small boy, probably the smallest out of all the club, came running up to you with wide, child-like eyes. You frowned in confusion – this boy looked like he was at least ten years younger than you, yet he wore an high school uniform? Not to mention you hadn’t seen him in any of the first year classes. Perhaps he skipped a grade? Or five?

“Yes, Hani-sempai.” Kyoya nodded patiently, ignoring your strangled splutter at the word ‘sempai’. “However, while they are technically a member of the club now, they are not a host. Meaning you are not to be distracted by them, understood?”

The boy pouted, his eyes beginning to shimmer with tears. You tried not to scream – how did he start crying so quickly? Who the hell was this kid?!

“But they look so cute, Kyo-chan!” He whined. “They look just like Usa-chan, being held like that!”

“Believe me, I do not want to be.” You grumbled. The boy cocked his head sympathetically and turned around with a wide smile.

“Takashi! [Y/N]-chan wants to come down.”

Before you could ask just who the hell this kid was calling [Y/N]-chan, a pair of hands grabbed you by the shoulders and hauled you out of Tamaki’s grip. You squeaked pitifully when you came eye-level with quite possibly the tallest man you’d ever met, taller than any of the men in your family. His face was stone-blank and his eyes were practically unreadable – combine that with how he had you lifted several feet off the ground, he was pretty intimidating.

“Hi?” You said meekly. The man smiled and set you down carefully on the floor before patting you once on the head.

“Mori.” He said gruffly. You paused for a moment, waiting for him to continue. He did not.

“Oh.” You smiled awkwardly when you realized that was all he had to say. “Well, um. I’m [Y/N].”

“Mori-sempai, how could you!” Tamaki cried from the doorway. “Don’t you know you’re intimidating them, grabbing them like that?”

“Then how is what you did any different?!” Haruhi snapped.

“It is completely different!” Tamaki huffed as he began marching to where you and Mori were stood. “I’m the father!”

Before you could snap that he definitely wasn’t your father, Mori was shoving you away from Tamaki’s warpath and sending you hurtling across the club room, only to be caught by two pairs of hands.

“Seriously, boss?” One of the boys holding you sighed. You recognized the fluffy orange hair from a few of your classes, but you couldn’t quite place his name. Nevertheless, he looked entirely bored with this whole ordeal. “You couldn’t at least find us someone fun for our new hire?”

“Excuse me?!”

“That’s true.” You blanched when you noticed that the other boy you’d collapsed into was identical to the first. Twins? You remembered seeing two shocks of orange hair in your classes, but you always tended to keep your head down and stay quiet in classes, so you’d never really given them a second look. “[Y/N]’s been in our classes for two months now, and they never say anything to anyone! Unless it’s to yell, that is.”

“Tamaki’s the president and his decision is final.” Kyoya shrugged and made his way to an armchair in the middle of the club room, clearly done with this interaction.

“I – what?!” You yelped. “But he didn’t even make a decision! You just dragged me in here and everyone started going crazy!”

Kyoya shot you a tired look.

“Fine.” He said simply. “You said you wanted a job here. Tamaki, are they hired?”

Tamaki grinned and nodded eagerly.

“Then consider your application accepted. You can start by fetching us some coffee, we’re out.”

He opened a sleek silver laptop and began to type, not waiting for you to respond. The twins groaned, still not letting go of your arms.

“Well, I suppose we’re stuck with them.”

“I don’t know about that, Hikaru.” The other shrugged – you made a mental note that his voice was a lot less snarkier than his brother’s. “This might be a great opportunity for some new games! After all, we’ve never had a tsundere in the club before!”

“Tsundere?!” You squawked indignantly. You pulled yourself out of their grasp and onto your feet, stumbling away and putting as many steps between you and them as you could manage. “Okay, yeah, I think this might have been a mistake. I’m sorry for wasting your-“

“Not so fast, [Y/N].” Kyoya said from where he was sat, his eyes still fixed on his laptop screen. “A verbal contract is binding in Japan. You can leave if you’d like, but I warn you, my family’s lawyers are the best in the country.”

“You’d take me to court for this?!” You cried. “But you didn’t even want me here!”

“It’s the principle of the matter. You offered your services, and we accepted. You can’t just back out now.” He reached into his pocket and fished out a gold credit card. “I’ll print you a card you can use for the club’s expenses by the end of the day. For now, you can use mine, but I will have you know that any unauthorized purchases will have consequences. And I want the number for that cell you mentioned.”

You gritted your teeth and snatched the card from his hands. You grabbed the cell from your pocket and practically threw it at his smug face. He caught it with ease. Asshole.

“Alright...” He murmured as he added your phone to his contacts. “I’ll send you all the number.”

You took your phone back and shoved it into your pocket.

“Anything else, Ootori-sempai?” You growled. He raised an eyebrow expectantly.

“Coffee. As I just said.”

You were going to kill him.

#ohshc #ouran highschool host club #ohshc x reader #kyoya x reader #kyoya ootori x reader

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somnambulants · 3 years

Text

see where you’ve been

summary: Natasha is a tease and she likes to see you flustered. 18+ word count: 1.6K.

Spending time with Natasha is the best and worst thing in the entire world.

The best because she’s the single most interesting person you’ve ever met and any time you spend in her presence feels like the ultimate gift.

(You may be slightly biased, considering your overwhelmingly large and borderline schoolgirl-esque crush on her but that was another matter entirely and one you’d firmly decided you were not going to be addressing any time soon)

But, while you coveted every second spent with her like a kid would covet candy, it could also be the worst at certain times.

Times like now.

With her pressed up so close to you that there’s not not even an inch of space between you.

Usually you’d be face down on the mat as she dug a knee into your spine by now.

This is the first time you’ve been able to pin her down and it was almost entirely by accident.

So it’s probably not surprising that you freeze up but it doesn’t make it any less mortifying.

“Okay good….You would probably make a move on the target now, though,” she teases lightly after a second of you just gaping down at her. “Not just grope them.”

Letting her go, you swallow roughly, heat crawling up your neck as you realise your hands are on her chest. God. “R-right. Sorry.”

She winks at you playfully. “Not that I mind.”

You squeak, lips moving soundlessly as you try desperately to think of something to say and come up empty.

The only other occupant of the room -- thank god, you don’t know what you’d do if all the avengers had witnessed this -- Clint makes no attempt to hide his snicker as he does a set of pull-ups in the corner.

As you scramble off her, she gives you a small, slightly amused smile and accepts the hand you hold out to help her up.

You make your excuses and book it out of there the second trainings over.

And If you take a longer than normal shower that night, definitely not doing what you’d normally do in the shower well, then, no one else has to know about it but you.

Still, you know you’re going to have a hard time meeting Natasha’s eyes tomorrow.

And you definitely do. Have a hard time meeting her eyes, that is.

You don’t know how but you somehow make it through your whole workout without once looking her in the eyes.

If you had looked though, you would have seen the speculative, knowing look in her eyes as she watched you fumble your way through training.

And then throughout the rest of the week, too.

And the week after that too.

Of course, you’re no expert in body language, but if you had just looked properly, you would have clearly been able to tell that she was planning something.

And something devious, at that.

The universe hates you. So hates you. Thats all you can think.

You really must have accumulated some major karma to have deserved this.

It’s like Natasha’s taken your normal workouts and upped them by three hundred in their intensity.

You’d thought you’d been a pretty decent fighter before this but you’re quickly realising she’s been going easy on you this entire time.

And it’s also like she knows how much her touch affects you because all of a sudden she’s always touching you.

Every-time she takes you down, her hands are on you. Lingering.

Every. single. time.

You’ve had so many cold showers over the last month, you’re surprised you haven’t picked up hypothermia.

In short, as time passes it just gets worse and worse until eventually you’re just a human ball of tension.

Like an elastic band that’s been pulled too far.

And even though you don’t realise it yet, it’s about to snap.

You yelp as she throws you down again, shoving you onto the floor and leaning down, pinning you there so you’re forced to just look straight up at her.

No matter how hard you struggle, she’s firm, holding you down, and pressing her knee against your stomach as she leans in closer.

Your heart picks up even more, rabbit fast.

“I thought I taught you better than that,” she teases you, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up as you feel her lips brush slightly against the curve of your ear.

You then let out an audible squeak as she lets you go, pulling away with this look on her face you can’t quite decipher.

You must imagine it but for a second you swear that as she goes to move off you, she grinds her hips down against your own ever so slightly.

And all of a sudden, all you can think about is her doing that. All the time. Sans the workout gear she’s currently wearing and on a much nicer, softer surface.

Like a bed.

She’s going to be the death of you. You just know it.

You feel flushed, trembling a little. If you looked at yourself in the mirror right now you’re sure you wouldn't even be able to see your irises from how dilated your pupils must be.

There are times you swear she must know how she affects you. She’s literally trained to pick up on every single thing; there’s no way she couldn’t see your pathetically obvious attraction to her.

Sometimes you’ve thought that maybe she’s just being nice and politely ignoring it, others you’re not so sure.

Other times you think she knows and she likes it.

“Damn,” Natasha is chuckling, taunting you as she throws you down again less than five minutes later, her knees on either side of your waist as she holds you down, her eyes glinting with amusement. “You’re really off your game today, aren’t you?”

The elastic band snaps.

Looking up at her infuriatingly attractive face as she hovers on top of you, victorious smirk on her lips -- god, it’s so attractive, she’s so attractive -- you just stop ...thinking.

You crash your lips to hers before you can stop yourself.

Surprisingly you don’t get punched in the face. No. What happens is much weirder.

She’s kissing you back.

"Finally,” she breathes against your lips. She’s smirking as she says it. You can feel it.

Why is she smirking?

What she says is confusing enough that it sticks in your head, even with the confused state of mess that your own mind is right now.

“I -- what?”

Natasha jerks your head toward her, pulling you into her as she kisses you again, more roughly this time.

“It took you long enough,” she pants, pulling away to breathe and ripping your shirt off you. She pulls it over your head and throws it on the floor. “I’m a little insulted, actually.”

You stare at her, hands freezing where you’d been fumbling with the zip on her jeans. “You...knew?”

“Obviously.” Natasha smirks down at you as you dig your nails into the flesh of her hips harder in response to her mocking tone. “You’re kind of slow, you know that?”

She lets out a surprised sound as you abruptly flip your positions.

Unconsciously, you must have picked something other than frustration from all these practices because she looks genuinely taken aback with you hovering over her all of a sudden.

“You could’ve said something.”

The look on her face fades away into amusement at your words. She hums a little. “I could’ve. But watching you squirm was more fun.”

With a growl, you pull back a little, forcing yourself between her thighs that she gladly parts for you, wrapping them around your waist loosely as you settle your hands on her hips, jerking her towards you as you kiss her again, nails digging into her skin.

This is where what little control you have ends.

In the next breath, she’s manoeuvred you both so that youre now flat on your back beneath her, gazing up at her as she looks down at you, chest heaving a little.

Not even bothering to pull your panties down, she just shoves them to the side as she enters you quickly with one, then two fingers.

You inhale sharply and then whine out loud as she removes her fingers completely after a couple of thrusts, snickering at your clear disappointment.

She brings them up to her mouth and you watch as she laves them with her tongue before pulling them out with a pop, moaning quietly to herself.

“Nat,” you plead, breathing heavily. “Please.”

Natasha smirks. “Well since you asked so nicely.”

Your hips buck up against her as she enters you again. Rougher than before.

With her free hand, she presses down on your throat ever so slightly: not enough that you can’t breathe but enough that it’s harder for you to suck air in between your moans.

“Oh my god,” you pant heavily, your eyes rolling back a little as you adjust to her pace, which is sharp and unrelenting and already dangerously close making you fall apart with the first few thrusts.

Her hand on your throat tightens ever so slightly as you close your eyes.

“Look at me,” she demands. “Look at me or I’ll stop.”

Struggling to obey, you train your suddenly blurry vision on her face and watch as Natasha’s lips curl in a slow, satisfied grin in response.

“Good.”

#natasha romanoff x reader

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malfoys-demigod · 4 years

Text

Turbulence - Draco Malfoy x Reader

requests: Hi i don't know if you take confession, but Hufflepuff! and muggle!Draco has been flooding my mind in recently. Love your writings by the way, keep it up! 😳👌💕💖 // Hi if you're open for requests, can I request a post-war draco x reader in which they are going for their honeymoon or sumth and its her first time by plane. So when a turbulence strikes she gets really scared and thinks they're going to die so she just keeps hugging him till it ends? Sorry if it's too much :[]You didn't ask, but lemme share something i thought bout with you

A/N: I decided to combine these two requests since one wasn’t as specific. I hope you enjoy!

requested by: @sycathorn-slush @amiiretto

@the--queen-of-hell

Draco had always fancied you. It was really astonishing to believe honestly. You were two things he tried either despising or avoiding, which were being a Hufflepuff muggle. So it was astonishing for the entire school to believe. You fancied him as well of course but you structured your mindset to think differently.

Knowing that you were things that Draco did not like, you told yourself that you and him would never happen in a million years. But it did not stop you from constantly watching him from afar or watching his every Quidditch game he had. You just never knew that the idea of him actually liking you would be possible.

The first actual interaction with him was when it was during your third year. You were spending your free period in the hospital wing being taught the basics of healing by Madam Pomfrey when all of a sudden, Hagrid bursted into the door, holding Draco Malfoy who seemed to be in some sort of pain as he was yelling at Hagrid things that were hard to decipher since he kept rambling.

All lessons about healing fractures and bones were at a pause as you and Madam Pomfrey rushed straight away as Hagrid placed Draco onto the nearest hospital bed. You couldn’t believe it. You were about to help heal Draco Malfoy. It was insane to believe that you were actually going to talk to him instead of avoiding him in order to not be called a ‘Mudblood’ in front of people. Besides, there was no way he was going to call you that in front of two respected authorities of the school.

“What happened, Mr. Malfoy?,” Madam Pomfrey asked as she examined the arm.

“Hagrid’s bloody chicken is what happened!”

“Buckbeak is a kind and loving creature!” Hagrid protested in a pleading voice.

“Looks like a minor injury that Ms. Y/L/N can perform,” Madam Pomfrey said after analyzing Draco’s state, “Have a go with Episkey while I look for an arm sling, dear.” she said, looking at you with a motivating look.

Draco looked at you with disgust as he watched you pull out your wand. You were already expecting an insulting comment from the pureblood but he surprisingly said something different.

“You think you can pull this off, Y/L/N? I think we can all agree that I’d need my arm back in the game for my next Quidditch match.” he asked calmly.

You gave him a small nod since you were a little unsure if you could actually pull it off. “Episkey!” you said, fixing Draco’s small injury. You wanted to jump for joy because this was the first time you assisted someone and it was Draco Malfoy!

He looked at you with a stunned expression as he started moving the joints of his arm slowly, feeling that there was no pain.

“Why are you here, Y/N? Shouldn’t you be off with your muggle friends doing muggle things?” he asked, trying to avoid showing thanks and gratitudes to you.

“I really value hard work and helping others in need and what better way to take interest in being a healer?”

“Huh, such a Hufflepuff I see.,” was all he said since Madam Pomfrey came back to assist him in wearing a sling.

When everything was all finished, Draco simply turned around and started making his way out of the Hospital wing.

Even if Madam Pomfrey gave you the thanks and acknowledgement for being an excellent healer, which was something you were praying for, it all suddenly did not matter. You were now craving for the thanks and acknowledgement of Draco’s as you were surprised he did not say anything bad about your blood status.

Nevertheless, you had to be grateful that he did not trash talk you about anything. You had to thank Helga Hufflepuff for giving you a decent small talk with Draco Malfoy.

Later on during the afternoon, you were entering the Great Hall as you were on your way to meet up with your friends by the Hufflepuff table until suddenly, your tracks had stopped.

“It comes and goes,” said a familiar voice.

You turned to see Draco Malfoy from the Slytherin table talking to his group about his injury.

Pansy was sitting so close to him, examining the injury as Draco continued the conversation.

“Still, I consider myself lucky. If it wasn’t for Madam Pomfrey and her apprentice Y/L/N, another minute or two, I could have lost my arm. Couldn’t possibly do homeworks for weeks.”

Your knees started to weaken as you heard Draco acknowledging you. This was impossible to process as this was probably the first time he’s ever talked good about you. This was put to the test when Pansy looked at him with a bad look.

“Y/N Y/L/N? The muggle? I thought she was useless!”

Draco removed her hand from his arm as he leaned away from Pansy in an instant. “I’ll have you know,” he said, “her dedication and loyalty to being a healer saved me. Like I said, if it wasn’t for her, I could have lost my arm. What part of that don’t you get, honestly?” he snapped.

As he was looking away from an irritated yet ashamed Pansy, his eyes met yours, as you were still standing in the middle of the Great Hall like a lost puppy. You wanted to run away from the situation you were in or at least walked away and pretended you did NOT lock eyes with the person you should have been avoiding your entire life.

But no, taken by surprise yet again, Draco Malfoy gave you a small smile, nodding at you then turned back to his friends. You wanted to look behind you and assume that it was for someone else but you had to be serious, there was no possible way it was for someone else. The table behind you was Gryffindor’s and it would be highly unlikely that he just smiled at the golden trio who were also listening to Draco’s conversation.

From there on, a friendship with Draco started to grow. It took time for you and him to actually be friends. It started out with small talks initiated by Draco, which confused most of the students witnessing something they never thought of happening. Then it moved on to being seatmates and partners in every experiment or academic sorts. And finally taking the role of star-crossed lovers.

Nobody knew that this would ever happen but it did and some people were for it while some weren’t. You and Draco proved to society that your relationship did nothing but become stronger over the years.

Despite being a part of Dumbledore’s Army while he was a Death Eater, your relationship was complicated yet still strong. You knew in your heart that he was someone born without a choice concerning the situation. If he fought back or left the Death Eater’s there would be serious consequences including him, his family, and possibly you. That was why you brought your relationship to the “under the radar” stage in your life. Some people thought you finally broke up while some might have suspected that you were keeping things low.

It was true. Once the whole war ended, you brought your relationship back to life, back to the public’s eyes. Draco remained the same: he was madly in love with you while his parents changed their outlook on you.

At first Draco kept your relationship a secret from his parents. He only revealed to his parents that he was seeing you when things started mellowing after the war. He brought you to his home to meet the changed Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy who were actually pleased to meet you. The remarked you for being the “loyal Hufflepuff” by their son’s side and welcomed you into the family.

It only became official when Draco popped the question a year later. When things started getting better after the war, Draco was finally ready to take the relationship to different heights.

When he asked Lucius if he could receive the blessings of asking for your hand in marriage, Lucius was more than happy to finally hear that Draco wanted to marry you. As he agreed to bestow his blessings, he also wanted to show Draco his deep gratification of having someone like you in his son’s life by taking care of the expenses of the wedding and honeymoon.

After finally tying the knot, there came the honeymoon. The Malfoy’s wanted to openly open their arms of Muggle customs by paying for travel expenses for the honeymoon.

You were really excited to hear that Draco was open to the idea of traveling through an airplane.

“First class?,” you asked, “Really?,”

“Of course, love. I only want to give you the best.,” he said, kissing your forehead as you finally took your seats.

There was something you’ve been meaning to tell him. Surely it wasn’t something serious to anyone else if they have heard, but to you, it was a little serious since it was personal.

As you fasten your seatbelt, you looked down at your shoes with hesitation as you were bottling up the thoughts you had to let out.

Draco took notice of this immediately and placed an arm on your shoulder, tilting his head to look at you.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? Did you forget something?”

“I have a confession, Draco.”

He looked at you with an eyebrow raised. “What is it, Y/N?”

“You’re not the only one whose never rode an airplane before.”

Draco exhaled in relief as he was thinking of many worse ideas in mind. He let out a small laugh as ruffled your hair, “My dear, you scared the bloody hell out of me. I thought of so many scary ideas in my mind.,” he replied, “Well, may this first experience we have together be the first of many airplane rides.,” he cheered you up.

You happily nodded in response as your head leaned on his shoulder, holding his hand with high hopes, only for these high hopes to turn upside down an hour later.

When the pilot asked for everyone to fasten their seatbelts to prepare for incoming turbulence, you were slightly concerned since you were unfamiliar with the experience of turbulence.

When the plane had its first shake, you felt as if your soul was about to leave your body as you held a tight grip on your arm rests.

“Huh,” Draco let out a small laugh, “Never knew airplanes could do that.” as he started looking around to see if there were any panicked riders. So far you were the only one spooked.

It only got worse when turbulence started striking again and again. You felt like you lost count of the number of shakes that the plane had encountered as you were focused on trying to release your fear by venting off the weirdest things you could think of to Draco.

“I swear,” you yelled, “WE ARE GOING TO DIE!”

“Dear-“

“Bloody hell, what if we don’t ever make it to our honeymoon?!” “Did you ever hear of what happened to Amelia Earhart?!? She was lost at sea after a bloody plane crash!! That could happen to us RIGHT NOW!”

Draco places his arms on your shoulders as he was sitting in an uncomfortable position since his seatbelt was tightly fastened. “Dear, I do not know who this Amelia woman is but I assure you, we are not going to die. If you were listening to the few stewardesses who came by, they assured us that turbulence occurs in almost every plane ride and it is not the cause of plane accidents.”

“What in Merlin’s beard do I do then?!”

Draco opened his arms, showing invitation to a hug, “Let me comfort you. Come and hug me and I promise I won’t let go of you until we reach our destination.”

You looked at him with fear but with his heart warming smile, the tension in your shoulders started relaxing as you finally inhaled and exhaled deeply. “Promise?” you asked.

“Honey, we just made vows recently. And aside from that, have I ever let you down?”

“I suppose not.” you said with a small smile.

“Now come and lean on my shoulder. Let me prove to you that I am a man of my words.” he softly said as you started placing your head on his shoulder as he wrapped an arm on your waist.

Feeling his warm body made you feel extremely comfortable as you started resting your eyes, which eventually led you to falling asleep and forgetting everything about the turbulence.

He was definitely a man of his words.

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sunflowerandco · 3 years

Text

Act VI: Looking Back

Rating: T for language

previous acts on the link in my bio :)

Hey everyone. After my favorite combo meal of some good ol' depression™ and school, I'm back to writing! I really hope you enjoy and I'm very thankful for all of the support if you stuck around this long. Thank you so much ❤

I hope you enjoy this origin story for Duncney in this universe

5 years before Act V

Bridgette approached a very focused Courtney in the hall. "Hey, Court. Got any plans this weekend?"

She responded, her face still buried in the locker she was trying to organize before heading home for the weekend. "Studying, studying, and more studying. I've got two AP exams in two weeks and my livelihood depends on me getting good enough grades."

"Is there any chance you have one day to let yourself have some fun?"

Courtney pondered and knew her response wouldn't please her friend. Still, she delivered it with a smile. "No." She knew Bridgette's campaign for fun was coming any second now as she shut her locker.

“You’ve been studying all week, Courtney. Come to Wasaga with us! My step-dad lent me the beach house for the weekend.”

Courtney felt apprehensive at the idea of a day on the beach with Bridgette, Geoff and their insistent need to suck face most of the time. “No thanks. I don’t want to be your third wheel.”

“You won’t be! It won’t be just me and Geoff. He practically invited our lunch period. Plus, Duncan’s coming...”

“And that holds significance to my decision because...?”

“...Because you like him.”

“I do not! He’s annoying, has no regard for authority, and is so, totally gross. I don’t need you setting up dates for me. At least not another disaster like Bradley.”

“To be fair, you did have a crush on him.”

“That was before I knew he was a total jerk.”

“What matters is that you gave him a chance. Why not give Duncan one? I've seen the way you look at him.” Courtney gave her look, signaling her to quiet down in front of everyone else occupying the halls. Bridgette smiled triumphantly and shrugged her shoulders matter-of-factly, finally getting through to Courtney.

"See? I'm never wrong." Bridgette walked off presumably to find Geoff. "I'll pick you up at two."

"I didn't say yes!"

"Love you, too!"

***

Courtney could deal with sweaty teenagers in a crowded setting. She could deal with speakers blaring in her ears. But, she couldn't stand to see Bradley's face across the room before running to Bridgette.

"Why is Bradley here?!"

"I don't know! I know for a fact Geoff didn't invite him. He was the only person off limits."

She knew she'd have to spend the better half of her day avoiding Bradley.

Courtney stood in front of the bathroom mirror of the beach house, washing her hands and reapplying her lip balm. For one thing, she had to hide from the guy she wasted a month of her life on. On the other hand, she couldn't find him. Not that she cared. Oh, no, no, no. Not Courtney. She didn't come to this outing hoping she'd find him. And she would never admit that even to herself.

When she exited the washroom, she bumped into a brown-haired, blue polo-wearing dudebro practically standing in front of the door.

"Hey, Courtney. You know you can't avoid me forever."

"It doesn't hurt to try."

"Listen, I just wanted to talk."

"In order for that to happen, there'd have to be something to talk about."

"Well, there is. I want to start all over. You and me. I've got drafts coming up for university football. Having a girl on my arm would help with my image and, well, I figured you could benefit changing that uptight, boring image everyone has on you."

Courtney scoffed, feigning interest. "Wow. While that sounds incredibly tempting-" Courtney started off with sarcasm.

Bradley wasn't the most receptive to rejection, but still persisted. "I knew you'd see it my way. It would help the both of us."

Courtney rolled her eyes at his insistent need to cut her off at every chance she had to speak. Her eyes diverted from his and her eyes gravitated to the neon green hair she spotted across the room. He hadn't noticed her stare, but seeing him made a sense calm take over her mind.

"...I'm gonna have to pass. Don't come up to me again wasting my time. I don’t need to associate myself with an asshole like you."

She finally felt like he would leave her alone for the remainder of senior year after letting him hear it. Courtney knew that wasn't the answer he wanted from his displeased layer of expression on his face. She held her hand out with a smile.

"Pleasure doing business with you." He begrudgingly shook her hand to save face from possible onlookers.

***

Duncan, Geoff, and DJ were all engrossed in conversation when Duncan's attention rerouted in Courtney's direction. DJ's voice faded slowly out of the forefront. "...All I'm saying is if dude didn't want his underwear up the flagpole, he should stop leaving it around the locker room!"

"What is he doing here?" Duncan was covertly protective over Courtney in the aspect of terrible ex-boyfriends. His reaction to seeing her shake hands with him made Geoff and DJ turn in that direction.

"I don't know, man. I swear I didn't invite that joke. It seems like they're making up, so that's good." The can Duncan held warped in shape as his grip tightened.

It was no secret how Duncan felt about Bradley. He had to spend two months convincing people that pantsing him, throwing eggs at his car and TP'ing his house were all in the name of fun and not some way of avenging Courtney.

He didn't mean to avoid her after the fact, but it made controlling his emotions easier.

***

Courtney, fresh off of telling Bradley off, finally felt she was able to enjoy herself for the day. As the day transitioned into a darker, breezy evening, her introverted nature dwindled as she allowed herself to let go. Catching up with acquaintances from various classes, taking in the ocean views, and the overall atmosphere made her feel recharged in a rare feat. Still, it was hard to find Duncan while sticking to Bridgette's side. She'd hate to verbally admit she missed trading meaningless quips with him, and it was out of the ordinary for them to be in the same setting without exchanging any words. She separated from her friend when she wandered around several spaces of the house. Then, she heard him.

He was projecting his conversation loud enough for onlookers to hear what he said. "It's actually sad how many times and ways I had to reject that girl. Even today I had to tell her to stay away from me. I mean, why would I want to associate with her?" A few laughs could be heard from the same acquaintances she caught up with at his declarations of rejection all created by him.

Duncan decided he'd heard enough and approached him. "You better watch you say around here. Courtney's not around to defend herself, and I'm known for not using my words to solve problems."

"Oh? Is that bitch your piece of ass for the week?" Bradley immediately felt threatened at how much Duncan was fuming at him. Duncan swung a fist, but he moved out of the way quick enough to dodge the attack.

Geoff immediately came between the two of them to settle the tension. "Just get out of here, dude."

***

She heard every word of it. She didn't want to defend herself for once. Her mind just kept repeating to itself. You need to get out. She sat on the sand with her knees pulled to her chest. Courtney felt Duncan sit next to her without a greeting. She still spoke lowly to fill the silence between them. "What gives him the right to think he can do and say whatever he pleases like that?!"

"You're right. Let me let him have it, Princess."

"No, it's not worth it. He's not, at the very least. And you need to stop getting into trouble all the time."

At the time, Duncan's need for revenge couldn't be subdued. He'd let it go for now, but his mind wouldn't rest until he felt justice was served on that rich, entitled fuck. "It's not like anyone cares if I do. Everyone just wants to police me-"

"I do." She immediately retreated to the ocean's view after she blurted those two words out pretty angrily.

A silent moment passed between the two of them. His brain felt like mush hearing that and seeing the bright reflection of the moon on her skin. All of his previous thoughts were clouded leaving one subject clear. He quietly said the first thing that came to his mind. "You look beautiful."

Courtney had gotten used to Duncan calling her nicknames. They were mostly delivered backhanded in response to her insults. This time it was unprovoked. It blurred the lines between real and fake. She decided not to respond and change the subject instead. She crossed her arms in defense of the drop in temperature. "I want nothing more than to leave this stupid place."

"Here." He said as he peeled the t-shirt off his back. Courtney truly didn't mean to stare as the fabric became less and less attached to his torso. He handed it to her after noticing she shivered when the wind picked up speed. She looked away quicker than she wanted him to notice.

"As if I need another reason for people to look at me weirdly."

He knew she just reacted the way they're expected to treat each other, but it still upset him for reasons he couldn't decipher fast enough. She immediately noticed his face fall, instantly regretting her delivery. "I didn't really mean that. Thank you." She smoothed out the wrinkles after letting the shirt fall over her body.

He couldn't stay mad at her for long, especially when her regret was so apparent on her face. Duncan considered the embarrassment she faced, and figured she was trying to regain some normalcy in their relationship. "Don't worry about it. Let me take you home."

Courtney didn't object, following him through the sandy plains to his car. After finding a tank top in the trunk, he slipped it over his upper half. Duncan opened the door on the passenger side for Courtney to enter. Moments that didn't include bickering scared Courtney. it was an occurrence that gave her mind the opportunity to wonder what a prolonged version of this happenstance would result in. Her feelings floating to the surface of her deeply buried psyche.

***

He didn't mean to drive in radio silence, but Duncan was more nervous than he'd like to admit. He almost ran a red light when he noticed the newly-acquired tan the sun gave her soft, warm skin as she crossed her legs in the passenger seat. He slammed on the brakes just in time, still startling her. "Duncan! I didn't accept your offer with the expectation of dying in your car!" It wasn't the greatest question, but he was relieved she opened a window of conversation to flow between them.

"What was your expectation, then, Princess?"

"Delinquent-proof driving!"

"You know it wouldn't kill you to be...nice?"

"And ruin the amazing dynamic of our relationship? I wouldn't dare!"

"I don't want anything to be 'ruined' either. Nothing will stop me from annoying you, no matter what happens between us."

Courtney relinquished in relief. She then remembered the very moment her fear took over. Acknowledging it meant accepting the affect his words had on her. Accepting those indulgent stares and rare, shared smiles. Despite her fears, she asked. "If you don't want anything to change, why did you call me beautiful the way you did?"

Surprised by the indicative effect of his words, Duncan responded as if the answer were so obvious, still attentive to the road ahead of him. "Because you are...? Nothing's gonna change because of that. I've always thought you were. I'll stop if you want me to."

Courtney felt her heart triple in size when she boldly responded, letting herself say whatever her heart told her to. "Don't... stop?" She stammered, even changed the pace of her words as she fought off her nervousness. "I... don't want you to stop."

"Okay, beautiful." Courtney's chest radiated with warm waves as she looked out the window. She looked in the opposite direction and noticed one of his hands resting in the space between their seats. Her mind and heart wrestled back and forth between doing what truly called to her. To shut them up, she turned her attention to the road ahead. And, like some gravitational pull, her hand made it's way toward his free one. A swipe of the back of each other's hands was enough to: burn beneath the surface of their skin; Duncan immediately caught on to her intentions. He tried to stay focused on the road as they fumbled, palm to palm, and slowly interlocked their fingers with the other's one-by-one. The silence after realizing how perfectly they fit was easy, comfortable, yet deafening.

At a red light, Duncan used the hand on the steering wheel to turn the radio to any random station he saved. Neither of them knew the song, but wouldn't forget any lyric of it after this.

You can't stop us on the road to freedom

You can't stop us 'cause our eyes can see

Men with insight, men in granite

Knights in armor intent on chivalry

She's as sweet as Tupelo honey

She's an angel of the first degree

***

When he pulled up to her street and their hands pulled apart, Courtney felt hollow. Duncan's mind conjured ways to make the moment last longer. "I'll walk you to your door." Courtney didn't object once more, smiling at his reciprocated persistence.

"Okay." The path, while short and forward in leading them to the door, gave them time before the eventual goodbye they dreaded. Courtney fumbled with her keys hoping to buy more time. Fleeting, fickle, borrowed time for a moment they used to curse themselves for dreaming of. He initiated.

"So... see you on Monday?"

"Of course. Um...thanks. For everything."

"It's no problem, Courtney. Goodnight." He leaned in and Courtney's breathing wavered. Duncan gave her a quick peck on the cheek. Courtney's hand rose to her face in an attempt to calm the burning sensation he left. This would suffice for what he really wanted to do. If he was right about the impact he assumed he had, he was doing the right thing for now.

Courtney hated to see him walk further from her and toward the car. In some entranced state, her hand grabbed his wrist, pulling him in closer.

Maybe she leaned in the wrong way; she over-estimated the distance between them as their noses collided with each other's causing them to both groan in pain. Her ache quickly shifted to embarrassment as she hastily spilled out her rambled apologies. "I'm so-so sorry! Oh my God. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

Her rambling ceased when Duncan pulled her in once again, his lips crashing onto hers with a yearning force. Her lips quickly overlapped his as his fingers tangled themselves in her hair, her arms linking around his neck. They parted for air but remained still with their hands attached to the other.

He'd never done something so worth it, unaware of the events to come.

#duncney #td duncan #td courtney #duncney fanfic

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ato-matsuri · 3 years

Text

On Agartha

Been a while since I’ve written a long text post, most of all one about Fate. It honestly inspires a lot of rambling in me, after all. But I don’t think, this time, it’s due to its good writing, the emotions it makes me feel, or anything good. This, my friend, is about Agartha. I should probably prelude that this contains a metric shit ton of Agartha spoilers. If you haven’t seen Agartha, and you’re actually wanting to see the story -- scroll past. But, having played through Agartha completely and rested on the story for a bit, I think I want to repeat what everyone else has for ages lol.

Agartha, on paper, is incredible. A subterranean world built off fantastical story off fantastical story, made by a woman known for her ability to weave story after story, within stories, on the fly, and from a database of every possible Arabian Nights tale. Where the fear Scheherazade has due to Shahryar's endless abuse and fearmongering has stretched even to men as a whole due to literal years of having to survive Shahryar. Where the only leaders were queens, where the only rebellion force was a man so horrifically corrupt that he'd easily fall for the tricks she played. Her intent -- to reveal magecraft forever, removing any power magecraft has, saving her from ever having to fight and face kings -- and die -- ever again. That... sounds pretty good when I describe it that way, huh? Now if only it were executed with any modicum of sense.

From the beginning, Agartha's writing struck me as remarkably odd. It was like I was watching someone desperately try to emulate Nasu's writing style -- but had absolutely no idea what made Nasu's writing so good. Its exposition dumps, rather than being interesting, ended up being thoroughly boring -- as they focused on the mundane, like the fact that moss glows to light up the landscape -- instead of the magical implications of a world like Agartha even existing to begin with. Albeit, with the mystery of Agartha at that time, we can safely assume that there wasn't much to focus on, but then why spend so damned long talking about this stuff?

The worldbuilding, while passable, feels fairly flawed in execution. The idea of a world made the way Agartha was could've made for some interesting commentary about the way men treated (and still do treat) women in modern society, but Agartha not only misses the point, but tumbles head-over-ass into the uncanny valley and makes the whole thing sound like a continent-wide BDSM session. There's barely any actual subtle or well-done symbolism to showcase misogyny in this way -- and while hyperbole can serve a good point at times, the hyperbole combined with the strangely sexual writing of these segments makes it feel less like commentary and more like a badly-done doujin.

For example -- El Dorado was as simple as it gets. Men are slaves/breeding machines/whatever. The whole 'breeding machine' thing is played off extensively, even with Penth -- a minor at this stage, mind you -- comments on using the protagonists as such breeding machines. I'll come back to this later, because this serves as another point.

Ys was a fucking cool concept -- a world ruled entirely by rampant consumerism and chaos. Men, in this world, are still second-class citizens, pretty much the playthings of the women around them. I say that Ys is the best kingdom comparatively, as it was at least more bearable than its other kingdoms, but it still felt weirdly sexual in its writing tone. Of course, following tone, Dahut (who I'll get back to later) smashes men constantly, and is very keen on fucking Guda as well, following a trend. It's played for comedy, mostly, but it's still uncomfortable as all hell. Even so, I note it's more bearable because it's a very slightly more subtle take on the whole 'misogyny' allegory -- these people are using men for basically whatever they want, and tossing them away after. I'd compare it to a few true crime cases of people who murdered, or assaulted women for no good reason at all, purely out of a want that was either denied (for good reason), or that the want itself was to inflict harm. While the allegory still does feel unintentional here, it's at least slightly less unintentional. It was probably mostly just by accident due to Agartha's generally uncomfortable writing style, but the allegory here feels a little more potent when it's not so blatantly a BDSM fic.

I hate the Nightless City, despite it again being a cool concept. A 'utopia' where speaking out at all means death -- where men are in concept free citizens, but in practice fall victim to the law if they look at someone funny. Again, in concept, great allegory. The law does not treat men and women the same -- and while it differs depending on the case which is preferred, the vast majority of the time, women are pretty much shafted by the legal system (see Brock Turner), especially in very conservative areas. Cases can be made for both genders being shafted, of course -- but for the purpose of this allegory, picking out the prejudices of the legal system against gender is a fair critique. But, like everything else Agartha does, these neat ideas fall flat in practice.

They barely touch at all on the allegory, and nobody seems to even realize it in the cast, making me further believe the allegories aren't intentional at all. In due fact, it's as if the writer didn't even realize that this could be read as an allegory. The men's plights make some sense, as they were yoinked out of nowhere into a world that hates them. But the Servants and Guda don't think about it at all past the 'wow men are slaves that sucks' -- barely even considering that this could be an allegory the world's creator made due to their own horrific circumstances. They do point this out, but to my knowledge, it's very late -- when Scheherazade's called on her bluff, only then is it ever mentioned, and only in passing at that. If anything, the fact they point this out so close to the ending makes the ending itself that much more insulting. But before I get to the ending, I think there's something else about Agartha that sets the scene for just how awful it is -- and that's the way the characters are written, and the dialogue that comes of it. For this, I'll split it up into the characters who portray this the most. I'll even describe their personalities in Agartha's context.

Guda: Crouching pervert, hidden Mash stan. A few non-sequiturs of Guda complimenting Mash despite the mood being completely broken by it. Guda's incapable of taking a situation seriously in Agartha, even when the world's basically due to be changed forever. They keep cracking jokes, creeping on Astolfo/d'Eon, and other such things even when people are literally dying all around him. For that matter, I clearly recall the scene where -- for no real reason -- Guda just changes gears with Mash in tow, and starts trying to decipher d'Eon's gender. There's absolutely no real context to this, nor any reason for Guda to do this. Further noted is the fact Guda has worked with d'Eon before, and should've probably realized d'Eon's situation by this point. The Nasuverse has always been a bit, er, behind on gender norms and such, but it's so prevalent in any scene with d'Eon it hurts -- especially in that particular scene.

Astolfo: Oddly enough, the most tolerable person here (sans one other person). Agartha's refusal to take itself seriously works remarkably well for Astolfo. And while Astolfo isn't exactly written well here either, the fact that Astolfo's always been a bit loopy makes them seem, well, more in character. They're responsible for some of the funnier moments in Agartha, with their input composing approximately 3/4 of the, like, seven or eight funny moments in Agartha proper. Even so, Astolfo's appearance sometimes hurts Agartha as much as they help it, probably since Astolfo is a bit of the reason Agartha won't take itself seriously.

d'Eon: Deserved fucking better. The previously mentioned scene was the worst offender by far in my eyes, with it coming out of fucking nowhere. d'Eon's paired with Astolfo as a buddy and fighting partner, which itself could've made for good material -- instead, d'Eon is constantly dragged into Astolfo's fanservice-y gimmicks, and d'Eon themselves are pretty often creeped on by Guda. I'd go out on a limb to say that d'Eon's implied dislike of gendered clothing (see the maid outfit) made their scenes wearing such outfits far more uncomfortable, especially with how distinctly sexual the Agartha humour is. I just hated it.

Columbus: I can't fucking believe I'm saying this, but Columbus was the funniest character in Agartha. And I don't even think that was intentional. Something about how unabashedly horrible he was caught me completely off guard -- I thought he'd end up sort of like Napoleon at a glance, someone whose Spirit Origin was completely changed due to Europe's collective worship of the dude -- but holy FUCK was I wrong. Something about the hilariously cursed faces Columbus pulls, combined with his loud-and-proud irredeemable evilness, made him a blast to watch -- and an even bigger blast to beat the shit out of. His, uh, toothy grin still cracks me up even a few weeks after playing it.

Penthesilea: One of a very large amount of people who really deserved better. She barely ever shows up -- and when she does, she voices her desire to turn Guda and co. into a breeding machine/slave (recall she's like. 16?), and pretty much throws the whole 'reasonable-ish zerk' thing out the window instantly, because Agartha decided to forego decent writing in favour of 'funny berserker hates achilles haha brrrrrr,' therefore losing pretty much all the characterization they could've given her. The lack of 'alternate views' that show her in greater detail make this far worse, which I'll go into later.

Dahut: God, wasted potential out the asshole! A woman who made an entire world that fucked around and needlessly consumed stuff, she's the epitome of such a belief. But that's all she is. I'd be able to forgive this awful writing if Scheherazade, who 'implanted' Drake onto Dahut, was a bad writer -- but she's fucking Scheherazade! Dahut's a completely flat character, who constantly tries to bed (and kill) Guda, and generally likes the idea of needless consumption. That's literally it. Again, could be explained if Dahut had difficulty keeping control of Drake's body and conscience -- but this isn't explored either! She's just a walking, talking missed opportunity.

Wu: God, look at her design. Do I even need to say more?! She falls under the same problem that the other rulers do -- shallow characterization, no opportunities to flesh them out, etc.

Scheherazade: She could've been so fucking amazing. Scheherazade's story is one ripe with interpretations the Fate series so loves to utilize -- and on paper, her character is amazing. It'd only be natural for someone like Schez to be this deeply traumatized after so many days on death's door -- not many could really get through that okay. The incredible storyteller who fears death, kings, and unconsciously, men as a whole -- creating Agartha as a subtle way of ensuring none of them harm her while she prepares her ultimate plan of revealing magecraft to the entire world. However, as with the other Agartha characters, she becomes cripplingly one-note. Bringing her fear of death above all else, she comes off as an unreasonable asshole, constantly freaking out about death and preserving exclusively herself to a fault. While one could argue it's partially due to a Pillar's influence, Phenex doesn't seem to have a hold on her at all -- it's a basic alliance, and nothing more, as the ending shows us. It just leaves her as a one-note death avoider, with no other character traits at all. I'd go into further detail, but I'm saving that for later.

Fergus: God fucking damnit, man. A literal child version of Fergus, who the entire cast constantly expects to sexually harass every woman in sight. He's a one-note flanderization of Fergus, just without the one character trait Agartha gave Fergus. It just makes him... boring, a character whose only character trait is his refusal to hit a woman. Like... Come on. The fact the entire team is so sure this literal child will start trying to hit on women is just uncomfortable to witness, and the fact he slowly starts gaining these traits feels less like him 'meeting his fate' as Fergus, and more like Agartha wants an excuse to sexually harass more of the cast.

The Fucking Ending I'm giving this its own category, because of just how much of a punch to the face it was. In short -- the plan to reveal magecraft is revealed, more jokes are made, bla bla bla. Agartha can't keep a serious mood at all. ...But the final few scenes take it to a whole other extreme.

Wu Zetian comes out of nowhere despite being squashed by Megalos earlier, stuffing Phenex into a pit of her weird water shit, placing Phenex in a state of 'life and death.' Child Fergus then sac's his own Spirit Origin to summon Fergus inside himself(???), thus gaining the power of Caladbolg to weaken Phenex enough for the player to destroy. ...However, Child Fergus just summoned Fergus inside his own body. So, what happens when you put Agartha!Fergus, a one-note sexual harasser, into the body of a child? You get the final scene of Agartha. For some reason, I guess you need more help from others to take out Phenex. To this end, Fergus decides to convince Schez to join their side. I'd like you to recall that FGO!Scheherazade is implied to have the trauma of Shahryar's abuse, sexual and physical, burned into her memory -- not just the whole death thing. In every form of the story, Shahryar abuses her in such a fashion almost nightly. It's to the point where Schez' first line of defence, and much of her skills, are as much oriented around storytelling as they are charm and seduction (moreso the former than the latter, albeit), because her defence mechanism was that as much as it was storytelling, to keep her abuser happy. This is a part of why Agartha is the way it is -- to keep such men away from her. Hell, there's not a single King in sight, save technically Fergus, and Chaldea's d'Eon and Astolfo. Fergus knows this. Hell, he heard this being called out. He's well aware how terrified she is. So, what does he do?

SEXUALLY HARASS HER. He claims she has to live to have kids. That men and women have to live to have kids. He claims that she should live, because he'd smash her. ...Now, that's insulting enough -- moreso, that it's played dead serious. Nobody even as much as calls him on such a shitty persuasion tactic, and nobody even mentions how awful it is to sexually harass a woman who'd been sexually assaulted at best for the better part of almost three straight years. AND IT. FUCKING. WORKS.

SCHEHERAZADE. IS IMPLIED. TO BE INTO IT.

And because of this, she's swayed to join the heroes and seal Phenex away for good -- giggling about how Fergus' worldview was partially correct even as she fades away. The epilogue features Fergus, sexually harassing Scheherazade ON SIGHT -- calling out 'tits on my 12:00' or whatever, as Scheherazade darts off. However, Schez isn't avoiding him due to trauma. She's avoiding it because, while she's into it, she doesn't want to 'die' so fast. This fucking ending highlights among the biggest issues with this damned Singularity. Even Blavatsky coming out of fucking nowhere to Deus Ex Machina a grail and help into Guda's hands -- despite seemingly being slaughtered by Columbus in a (admittedly a bit funny) way to get the base of the Resistance -- means nothing to me compared to the blatant slaughter of two characters at once. Fergus is a total horndog even outside of Agartha's reach, but he even notes he respects his partners' consent, and doesn't overstep his bounds if he makes them uncomfortable. Scheherazade isn't exactly trusting in the slightest, least of all in Agartha - she barely even begins trusting Guda due to Guda treating her with actual respect. Even then, she isn't actively prostrating herself for Guda in that sense, very likely due to the fact that's more of a defence mechanism to her rather than something she'd enjoy, due to extreme trauma. Albeit, Fate writing does leave the possibility in the air for Guda specifically, but that's very likely just due to Guda being Guda and being careful to treat her properly and help her than anything else (and also the whole 'self insert harem' thing, I guess, but that's a hell of a lot easier to ignore esp in contrast to Agartha) And yet, we see that epilogue, that butchers both of them in one fell swoop so badly that I almost ended up hating both of them. Agartha's biggest problem is that it tried to be deep and intriguing, while having the writing quality of the goddamned Valentine's events. It picked all the right characters to have an incredibly intriguing storyline, and fell flat because the author decided that playing sexual harassment, d'Eon's everything, and even the most serious scenes for comedy was more important than telling a story even half as meaningful as the chapters before it. Lo and behold -- to my knowledge, Minase wrote it. Of course he did. He chose the best, the most interesting characters he could find, and made them so fucking one-note that the story lost all its charm in moments. He chose to emulate Nasu without understanding what made Nasu's writing so good. He chose to make Agartha a laugh fest despite simultaneously trying to make it 'deep.' He chose to fall head-over-ass over a possibly interesting allegory into misogyny and fall right into sexualizing it to the point of feeling like a femdom BDSM fic. And go figure the only character he did decently was Christopher fucking Columbus. I have a hatred for Agartha I can't reasonably place anywhere else. Prillya was just as shitty, but I ignored it, because Prillya itself wasn't great, so of course the crossover sucks too. Valentine's events written by him weren't great, but whatever, it's a Valentine's event. Septem, written by someone else, was similarly not great. But it wasn't insulting. It simply wasn't great, and had a lot of wasted potential. But its ending wasn't out of character to the point of being insulting. Its story didn't make incredible mythological and historical figures too infuriating to like anymore. It didn't almost ruin entire Fate characters for me. Not the way Agartha did. I should probably contextualize that Scheherazade is among my favourite mythological figures. I introduced myself to her through Magi (lmao) due to further research into the base stories -- as well as a favourite Magic: The Gathering card, Shahrazad, which forced you to play a game within your game, like how Arabian Nights featured stories within stories.

Even in Fate outside of Agartha, I liked her. Her design didn't make much sense to me considering her character, but whatever, I didn't need to think too hard of it. It's just a design, and despite my hatred of Penth's design, I still love Penth as a character, so I can handle Schez. But Agartha painted her in such a way that all the subtlety and interesting parts of Schez went completely out the window. No longer was there any hidden references to the aftereffects of her life beyond 'i dun wan die,' and there was hardly an ounce of sympathy or kindness in her bones at all. While her being an anti-hero made some sense, especially as she was only a normal person with far above-average storytelling prowess, there was a point when she stopped being a 'good, but terrified person' and started being a complete asshole. And Agartha was that time. If it weren't for her Interlude, which redeemed her considerably, and Ooku, which did wonders for her character despite being written by Minase (as I believe Nasu was overseeing him at that point), I very likely would've never gone for her at all, despite my love of the myth. In Conclusion This rant is just to say that Agartha is bad. Horrific. Insulting, even. At every step where it could've been good, it tumbled head-over-ass into the most insulting, uncomfortable shit you could imagine. It failed to take itself seriously, and paced itself like a comedy event, but simultaneously acted as if it expected its audience to take it seriously. Like a clown brigade deciding to take on Les Mis, it loses all of its punch when every few lines is interrupted by a jab at Fergus, sexual harassment, or something that comes close to being cool before suddenly turning into a badly-timed joke, or suddenly becoming laden with dialogue so sexual it feels straight out of a porno. It's aggravating, awful, and with only brief reprieves of bareable comedy in between long, long lengths of hellish text and awful characterization. The only good part was the gameplay -- which, laden with interesting mechanics not seen elsewhere, was legitimately fun. My take? Avoid all Agartha cutscenes and plot, and just play the gameplay. The gameplay's fun, and if enjoyed on its own, would probably make for a far better experience than observing the story surrounding it. But good gameplay doesn't make up for a horrible story, especially in a game where plot is as important as it is in F/GO. Agartha's a pile of shit in my eyes, but that's ultimately only my opinion, and nothing more. If others have an opinion counter to mine, that's completely fine -- and don't let this analysis ruin your fun with Agartha if you enjoyed its plot. To be frank, I'd be happy if you enjoyed it where I could not. And if you think my takes are misinformed, or if I missed a spot (or overreacted to a spot), that's what the reblogs and comments are for! I'm definitely not the kind of dude who has the final say in matters like this -- this is only what I picked up. Thank you for reading!

#fate grand order #fate #f/go #fate/grand order #mash kyrielight #agartha #agartha fgo #tldr i hated it lol #agartha spoilers #rape tw #rape cw

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billionairesitgirl · 4 years

Note

Hiii!! I’m not sure if you’re taking any questions buuuttt i shall ask one anyway and hope you answer hehe <3

- so there’s this guys who’s asked me out on a couple dates (two to be exact) both dates were set but canceled; first by him and second by me due to some important things. He said he hates canceling plans and that he’s a man of his word. I’m the same! Sooo sidenote he did CALL me to ask me out BUT the thing I’m struggling with is.. he will ask me out with no hesitation but RARLEY ever texts me. He only seems to text me when he sees me because we work in the same company. I’m not really sure what the question I’m trying to ask is but could you help me understand if I’m being played or if he just wants me for sex? I’m having trouble understanding where exactly he’s at and I feel like it’s WAY to early to ask that because we don’t know eachother that we’ll but we’ve had some pretty good conversations in person and maybe a few over text. Also I’ve notice if we set a date he won’t text me until the day of! I’ve been in numerous unhealthy and toxic relationships and have been used so many times that I’m struggling with reading people atm and I’m scared I’m going to go through all that again.

Ps: he’s 10 years older than me and I’m soooo sorry this is long and might be confusing ASF <3

I do have a lot of questions coming in that i haven’t answered. I have been busy traveling.

It seems like you haven’t understood your own value yet.

1.) Why are you interested in this man? for regular dating leading to something serious and real love? or hypergamy? or SD?

Figure out why you want this man.

2.) What type of man do you want in your life (considering what you have gone through)

Make a list. The attributes you want in a man. The way you want him to treat you, the way you want to man to feel about you, the way you want the man to court you etc... MAKE A LIST

(Does this current man even make you remotely feel that way?) ... I know you aren’t dating yet... But a man’s interest is usually clear. A man’s courtship is usually clear as well; when he is truly interested in pursuing you (for whatever reason...)

From what am gathering... you are out sight ... out of mind to this man. (Meaning, he isn’t really thinking about you...) ... He has the attitude of (if i get her putting minimum effort possible... i get her... If I don’t then hey, at least there was no effort.... MEANING : He could take it or leave it attitude).

Meaning, If another woman, he kindles his interest more comes along... you are BYE-BYE (People appreciate more what they invest effort into)

Do you really want a man who puts the least amount of bare minimum in the beginning stages? Can you imagine if you start the relationship... what he will be like, after he gets more comfortable (cause relationships, do cool down to a norm eventually). So if he is like this now... the potential of what he could become later sounds like another additional heart break for you.

3.) You know the answer to your own question; If this man only texts you when he sees you.

One of my favorite quote is “They say a lot... so i watch what they do” Men say a lot because they understand that women are gotten through words... So they say a lot.... He say’s he is a man of his word... that doesn’t mean anything to you. (Even if he is) that doesn’t spell his interest in you. it just means if he says he will be there at 8, then he will be there.... This is his general personality to people.... What you are trying to decipher is his interest in you. So being a man of his word.... doesn’t mean anything at this point.

A man’s action is his true feelings... take words with a grain of salt... WATCH ACTIONS...

What i am saying.... Is this man doesn’t have a skin in the game

secondly, he isn’t that interested (It could be that his interest will increase once you guys make it to a date)... But personally, I like men who even before dates pursue me and lead with their interest (I am spoilt that way... because I don’t require anything less... I won’t even engage with anything less...)

You don’t have to do that... BUT the problem is really not this man. He is the way he is... its up to you to determine if that works for you or if it doesn’t

The problem is YOU...

Clearly, you aren’t happy with his laissez faire interest in you.

The less than bare minimum effort etc.

So, why continue to entertain and inject hope there? You have a case of FOMO

What if I don’t give him a chance and he ends up being this wonderful man that i end up missing?

(What if he is only this way because he doesn’t know me yet and we’ve not been on a date yet)

The what ifs are legitimate question about not writing people off...

BUT........HAS THAT WORKED FOR YOU BEFORE?

(Yes, he could be a wonderful man... but he could also be a nightmare)

(Yes, he could be a wonderful man to another woman... that doesn’t mean he will be for you)

There are other women that man puts more effort into (because he is more interested).

Men’s action towards a woman, is usually on where they place you on their scale. (There could be a woman that man will send 20 messages a day to) Even from the first day....

KNOW THIS - Every man has a scale... consciously of subconsciously... it exists

My sponsor says “There are women. you wouldn’t dare spend more than 3k on, there are women, you wouldn’t even insult by offering 35k... And then there are women who anything less than a blackcard is an insult to himself and to her

Meaning : The level of a man’s interested is shown (yes the interest can grow, yes it can also start out an diminish)... The question is... ARE YOU HAPPY WITH WHERE IT IS STARTING AT? WILL YOU STAY IF IT DIMINISHES?

If a man’s interest starts out high and on it way starts to diminishes... I LEAVE

If i a man’s interest start’s out low and grows(I slowly match it.)...

Example : Lets say A man’s interest starts at 50%

I keep my interest in him at 10 %

If it grows to 100%

I increase mine to 20%

If it grows beyond 100%

I increase accordingly

And if his interest stays consistently high and above...

I match accordingly

ON THE REVERSE

Now if his interest decreases to 50%

I also scale back to 10%

It it falls less than 50%...

I leave (There a reason why, I don’t let it go less than 50%)

Again, you don’t have to do what i do (like I always warn people... you lose a lot of people going my way) And it can be hard...

But in my personal experience (It only keeps quality over quantity).

He is not playing you.... You are playing yourself by not really knowing your value or being honest with yourself and sticking your ground on how you want to be treated.

So figure that out...

#sugardating #sugardatingadvice #sugardatingtips #sugarbowl #hypergamy #datingadvice #sugarbowltips

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gallavictorious · 4 years

Text

Fic: This Time (We’ll Be Fine)

Ian's bipolar was always bound to make itself known again sooner or later, so Lip's not exactly shocked when Mickey swings by to break the news. Well, he's a little surprised at first, when he opens the door to find his brother-in-law and not, say, any of his siblings or Kev waiting outside. While Mickey's joined Ian in helping out with the renovations a few times, him dropping by out of the blue and all by his lonesome is still a bit of an occasion.

”Hey,” Lip says, pulling off his work glows. He's spent the last hour removing the old counter tops from the kitchen, hoping to get it done before Tami returns with Freddie from a visit to her parents.

”Hey.” There's an awkward pause, but before Lip can ask what's up, Mickey plows on: ”So, Ian's been a little off for a few days, and we're pretty sure it's early signs of a manic episode.”

Something about the way he says it has Lip momentarily flashing back to the day many years ago, when Mickey and his brothers had confronted him about Ian allegedly messing with Mandy. He almost braces himself, because while he's been over that whole thing for years and years, his body still remembers the pain.

Then the actual words sink in and ah, fuck. It not being a surprise doesn't mean it doesn't hit like a punch to the gut.

With the worry comes a pinch of guilt: the house he rented is actually liveable now and he and Tami moved into it a month or so ago, but there's still a lot of work to be done and Lip's been spending every waking hour not devoted to his job or Freddie trying to get it fixed. It hasn't left him a lot of time for checking in with the rest of his familly.

”Is he okay?” he asks.

”Yeah. Well, no, he's a fucking mess, but he will be, you know. Fine. Upped his downers and booked an appointment down at the clinic on Monday, so they'll sort this shit out, get his pills adjusted or whatever. He's in bed now, sleeping it off.” Mickey lets out a sigh, distractedly reaching for a pack of cigarettes in his pocket. Lip doesn't protest when he lights up, even though he knows that Tami will say something snide about the smell when she comes home.

Let her; man looks like he can use a smoke. Lip wouldn't mind one himself, but bites back the urge to ask.

”Anyway,” Mickey continues, ”I just wanted to let you guys know, and, uh, I was thinking that maybe you'd come by someday next week. For dinner or whatever?”

Lip blinks. Sure, they ate together all the time when they were all staying at the Gallagher house, and they've shared a few meals since Lip moved his little family across the alley, so having dinner in and of itself isn't really weird – but getting an official invitation to one, and from Mickey of all people? Yeah, that's new.

His surprise must show, because Mickey makes a face. ”Yeah, I know,” he mutters. ”It's just... He hates it, you know? He's got it under control and he'll be fine but it's... he hates it. He'll be fucking dejected and shit for weeks, even after the new meds kick in. And you guys always cheer him up, so I figured... ” He shrugs, not finishing the sentence.

It occurs to Lip that maybe it isn't easy for Mickey to come here and ask for this – to ask Lip for anything. There was a time when Lip thought Ian an absolute idiot for falling for Mickey Milkovich, and he's pretty sure Mickey knows as much, because Lip sure as hell didn't try to keep it a secret. But that was a long time ago, and as far as Lip's concerned, they've been good for years now. He's not sure if Mickey knows that, though, or feels the same way; they've never really talked about it.

So yeah, maybe it's not easy for Mickey to come here. He does it anyway; for Ian, he always will.

Lip loves him a little for that.

”Yeah, yeah, sure, man,” he says quickly, realizing that he's been silent for too long, lost in thought, and that Mickey is looking at him with something quite close to barely concealed anxiety. ”Of course we'll come.”

Mickey's shoulders drop just a fraction of an inch at that. He givs a curt nod. ”Okay. It'll probably take a few days before his, I don't know, levels are adjusted or whatever. But maybe you can keep your evenings open and I'll call you? And don't let him know I talked to you, right?” he adds, giving Lip a decidedly threatening look. ”He fucking hates it when people make a fuss.”

”Yeah, no, I know. I won't say anything. Thanks for letting me know.”

Mickey nods again, tossing his cigarette butt to the ground. Lip makes a mental note to pick it up before Tami gets back.

As Mickey makes to take off, Lip calls out, on an impulse: ”Hey, Mick.”

Mickey stops. ”What?”

”You ever hesitate?” Off Mickey's blank stare, he adds: ”Getting back together. Dealing with this for the rest of your life. You know how crazy it can get.” Knows it only all too well; Mickey had been there when Ian first fell ill and in spite of doing as well, and way better, than could possibly have been expected of him, it had not ended very well for Mickey.

That shit's gotta hurt. Looking at Mickey now, Lip thinks he can see the strain lurking under his mostly calm demeanor. See the fear, maybe.

And still Mickey glares at Lip like he's an idiot. ”Fuck no, I didn't hesitate,” he says, sounding affronted. ”It's just a fucking disease, man. We'll deal. Think I'm gonna ditch him because he has a few off days every now and then? Who the fuck doesn't have off days?”

It's more than a few off days every now and then, and they both know that – but Lip knows, too, that to Mickey, to some degree, it really is that simple. It's a disease. It's serious and it sucks, but it's not the sum total of Ian; it doesn't define him. And sure, Lip knows this on an intellectual level, as does the rest of his siblings, but he thinks that maybe Mickey is the only one who truly, fully gets it on an emotional one.

With that in mind, Lip meets Mickey's glare, unflinching. ”Still. It can get pretty rough. I guess what I'm saying is... if you, like, ever needed to talk or just, you know, take a break and hang out, I'm here.” He might not always have been great about Mickey, or great about being there for people in general, but he's been doing a lot better with the latter lately and maybe he can use whatever supportive skills he picked up at AA to do better at the former, too.

He's half convinced that Mickey will roll his eyes and walk off with an insult thrown over his shoulder, and he's fully convinced that Mickey's actually considering just that before opting to just nod again. ”Yeah,” he mutters. ”Thanks.”

”You're welcome.” Lip pauses, hesitating. But fuck it: ”I'm glad, you know. That he has you?”

And apparently that pushes the conversation too far into sentimentality because now Mickey does roll his eyes, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. ”Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'll call you.”

He walks off. Lips pick up the cigarette butt and heads inside.

---

The call comes on Thursday morning, and a little past five in the afternoon Lip carries Freddie through the kitchen door with Tami in tow.

Liam's doing homework by the table and Mickey is stood by the stove, staring down an enormous pot of boiling water.

”Hey,” he says, sounding for all the world like he's surprised to see them, but he gives them a quick, grateful look, before jerking his head in the direction of the living room, where Ian's chilling with Debbie, Franny, and Carl in front of the TV.

Ian looks tired, and maybe even paler than normally, but he smiles readily enough when he catches sight of them. His smile widens further when Lip hands Freddie over for him to hold. ”Hey, buddy,” he coos.

”You guys staying for dinner?” Mickey calls from the kitchen. ”Made a shit ton of pasta, so there's plenty to go around.”

Lip makes a show of looking at Tami for confirmation.

”Yeah sure, why not?” she says, playing along. ”Saves me having to cook in a kitchen that's only half-existent.” She raises her voice: ”Thanks, Mickey, we'd love to.”

They chat for a while, and then Debbie and Tami starts comparing notes on child development, which for some reason is slightly unsettling – maybe because there's part of him that still thinks of Debbie as his little baby sister and hearing her talk to his baby mama like an equal is fucking strange – and eventually he, Ian and Carl move into the kitchen, leaving Freddie with Tami.

Liam puts away his homework; Ian grabs them drinks from the fridge; it's familiar and comfortable and, yeah, Lip's missed this.

He looks up and catches Ian watching him. ”So, you guys just decided to stop by, huh?” Ian asks casually.

Lips shrugs, deliberatedly not glancing toward Mickey chopping lettuce by the sink. ”Yeah, you know. Been a while since we all got together, figured it'd be nice to just drop by.”

”Uh-huh.” Ian does glance over his shoulder at Mickey, who is doing a very good job of pretending to be entirely engrossed in his salad-making and not at all listening in on any conversations. Lip keeps his face carefully blank as Ian turns back to him with a knowing look on his face. There's a hint of annoyance there; maybe a hint of resignation too, and something else that Lip can't quite decipher –

For a moment, he thinks that Ian is going to say something, but then his brother rises abruptly instead. A few long strides and he's right behind Mickey, grabbing hold of his wrist and spinning him around, which is hell of a bold move, considering that Mickey is Mickey and holding a fucking knife.

”What the – ” Mickey begins, but is quickly silenced as Ian claims his lips for a kiss.

Claims really is the right word, Lip thinks, feeling as if he should avert his eyes, but not quite managing to. It's a thorough kiss; rough; demanding. Ian's got his arms wrapped around Mickey's neck, his body pinning Mickey against the kitchen counter, and there's something possessive about it, something that – yes – speaks of claim and want and need.

Mickey's still holding the knife in one hand, half a lettuce in the other, and he can't really do much but stand there and let Ian kiss him. Not that he seems to mind in the slightest, Lip notes, and fuck it, but he never thought he'd see the day when Mickey Milkovich would just melt into Ian's arms, his kiss, so easily and so happily; so entirely without reservation, in spite of being surrounded by inlaws.

Eventually Ian lets go and steps away, walking back to the table with studied nonchalance, as if he's not, in fact, leaving his husband flushed and with swollen lips and a dazed grin. The look on Ian's face gives lie to his casual attitude, however: there's something fierce there and a hint of a satisfied smirk lurking in the corner of his mouth.

Then he sits down and blinks and is just plain old Ian again, Lip's little brother grinning easily. ”How's it going with the counter tops?” he asks. ”You convince Tami to go with the concrete ones?”

”Hell no,” Lip says, taking a sip from his coke to hide his smile. ”Apparently anything but marble or at least granite is out. She's saying we should invite Aunt Opie over, have her get so shocked over our living conditions that she offers to pay for the whole thing, but... ”

Over by the stove, Mickey returns to his salad. He's still smiling. So is Ian, as he listen to Lip detail the horrors of home renovation, and Lip thinks that maybe this time they're all going to be just fine.

#mickey milkovich #lip gallagher #gallavich #lip and mickey kinda sorta bonding #over dealing with ian's illness #(ian also deals with it and does very well)#also a family kitchen scene #and some rough kisses #because i'm weak for that #slight angst with a happy ending #fic #2101 words #my stuff

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ibijau · 4 years

Note

Hi I hope you are well! in Worse engagement AU, does NHS ever find out about LXC getting longer-lasting incense, or LQR intentionally failing him his first year in Cloud Recesses? Poor NHS just can't catch a break, and I love the angst

Worst engagement AU

He does! And I may or may not have pushed myself to write nhs failing his year just because of how badly I wanted to write this, ahah.

Set soon after they get married :D

warning for... I guess he’s having a panic attack of sorts?

Unpacking is a terrible chore, worse in some ways than the packing that preceded it, but at least Nie Huaisang gets some help from his...

His face heats up. It's going to take a while to get used to the fact that they're married. It's only been a few days, and half the time it doesn't feel real. Which is the entire reason why Lan Xichen insisted that Nie Huaisang unpacked his things so they could put everything in its proper place and turn the Hanshi into something that's home for both of them. Even more than Nie Huaisang, it's obvious that Lan Xichen can't believe he gets to have this. It shows in the way he looks at Nie Huaisang when he enters the room where he's working, always half surprised to see him there. It shows also in the way he clings to him at night, as if Nie Huaisang might disappear otherwise, or run away, or do whatever other insane thing Lan Xichen might be imagining.

“What are those?” Lan Xichen asks, having opened a chest and found it full of various papers.

Nie Huaisang abandons the books he was trying to organise and comes to sit next to his husband, a little closer than necessary perhaps, but he knows Lan Xichen will appreciate it.

“This... Ah, it's a bit of everything,” Nie Huaisang admits. “Things I’ve done for fun these last few years. Most of it is bad poetry. Some of it about you, actually.”

“Did you?”

“I got very creative with insults at one point. I made Jin... I made someone read them, he found them very funny. Jiang Cheng saw them too, but he made a fuss about me being rude.”

Lan Xichen's smile freezes into that very annoying, very polite expression he has when he's unhappy about something. They usually avoid talking about Jin Zixuan, really, but Nie Huaisang was so taken by nostalgia for a moment that he half forgot. Besides, the poems really were funny.

Still, Nie Huaisang takes pity on Lan Xichen, and quickly digs into the chest to find something that will let him change the conversation. There's some half finished paintings, some calligraphy attempts, even notes from his time as a student and...

“Oh, right, I kept that,” he mutters, grabbing a neat little stack of paper. “That's probably good for a laugh.”

“Poems?”

“Even worse,” Nie Huaisang chuckles. “It's that exam I failed, my first year in the Cloud Recesses. I really thought I'd done great, you know? Well, maybe not great, but decently at least. Heavens, sometimes kids are so stupid they can't even see how stupid they are.”

Lan Xichen tenses next to him, and rather than to laugh along, throws him a concerned look.

“You kept that? Why?”

Nie Huaisang shrugs, grinning, and looks over the failed test. It always just felt like an important reminder that he’d never manage to play by the rules of others. A good chunk of the paper is unreadable because Lan Qiren had crossed over those wrong answers, but suddenly Nie Huaisang feels curious to see if he'd figure out how he got it so wrong.

“May I see?” Lan Xichen asks, his tone almost too careful, as if he fears he might offend.

“Sure, why not,” Nie Huaisang replies, handing him the papers and turning his attention back to the chest. “You know, I think I have a few portraits of you somewhere in there. Let me just find them, I think one at least is pretty good.”

While Lan Xichen deciphers the physical incarnation of all of his failures, Nie Huaisang continues digging into the chest. He does find a few portraits, but not the one he wants. These are doodles of Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng, and this he must get rid of discreetly because it's Jin Zixuan, smiling, so Lan Xichen won't like it, and this... well that's a painting of Lan Xichen alright, but he doesn't know how his husband might feel about, ah, imaginative depicting of what Nie Huaisang had once thought their married life might become. Besides, aside from the faces, everything was copied from one of his artful books, so it hardly counts as his own work. And this...

“Huaisang, are you sure this is the test you took back then?” Lan Xichen asks in a strange voice.

“It's not something I'd forget, is it?” Nie Huaisang replies with more bitterness than intended.

He half regrets it when he looks at Lan Xichen. Nie Huaisang almost can't figure what sort of an expression is on his husband's face except that it's an intense, rarely seen one.

Then it hits him.

Lan Xichen is furious.

“If you're having second thoughts because you're realising that I'm really an idiot after all...” Nie Huaisang starts, an old, half forgotten rage and terror already welling in his guts.

“Huaisang, I wouldn't have passed that test.”

Nie Huaisang stares. It's all he can do, when nothing makes sense.

"And I'm not saying I would have failed it when I was the age you were," Lan Xichen continues, blind to Nie Huaisang’s growing panic, his hands clenched on the papers, nearly tearing them apart. "As I am today I would probably not pass this test. The questions are made to look simple and to have easy answers, but they are actually on complicated subjects that only a scholar would know.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” Nie Huaisang mumbles, fear still curling in his chest, though a little less tight now. Lan Xichen is angry, but not at him.

Possibly for him.

But it makes no sense, none of this makes sense, because if his exam was really this hard and tricky, then…

“Uncle set you up for failure,” Lan Xichen states, almost a hiss.

Nie Huaisang stares.

This is. This is important. This changes. It just. It changes everything. It should make him angry, and it should make him happy. It should make him feel something, but instead he’s just numb.

It changes everything.

It changes too much.

Nie Huaisang doesn’t even know how to start unpacking everything this discovery means. It’s too much, it’s all at once, it’s the very basis of everything he’s done and felt those last few years being shaken on its foundations so badly that it threatens to crumble.

He can’t breathe.

He can’t think, he can’t breathe, because it’s too much, it’s too much, it’s too much, it’s…

He feels hands on his and that grounds him. One of the hands move to his face, wiping tears he hadn’t realised started flowing down his cheeks, just as he doesn’t know when he closed his eyes. He opens them when a gentle, worried voice calls his name.

“Huaisang,” Lan Xichen whispers. “Huaisang, I’m sorry. I swear I didn’t know.”

Nie Huaisang nods, trying to remember how to breathe. He doesn’t doubt that Lan Xichen didn’t know. Neither of them wanted to be forced to spend time together at that time, Lan Xichen wouldn’t have played along if he’d known, not even for his uncle.

But this is still…

“I didn’t fail,” Nie Huaisang manages to gasp. “I didn’t fail.”

“You didn’t.”

“I’m not stupid.”

He hears Lan Xichen make a noise almost like a wounded animal, feels himself being pulled into a tight hug that he doesn’t, cannot resist.

It’s not.

It’s not that he actually thinks he’s stupid. Nie Huaisang has learned, has accepted, that he’s quite smart, in his own way. He’s good at reading people, and at becoming friends with them, and he knows about literature and poetry and art and, and he’s nearly as good as Jiang Cheng for mixing patterns, and he understands animals and how to tame them. Nie Huaisang is clever, and he’s forced everyone who matters to see how clever he can be, but he knows what some people still say.

Even now, there are some who think that Lan Xichen should be pitied for their marriage. He’s heard them say that Nie Mingjue should have released his sworn brother from that ridiculous engagement, now that there are no Wens left to justify the need for an alliance. That a man as brilliant and respected as the mighty Zewu-Jun deserves a better spouse than that kid who somehow managed to fail when studying in the Cloud Recesses, something nearly unheard of.

But he’s not stupid.

He didn’t fail.

“You’re the smartest person I know,” Lan Xichen whispers against the top of his head, fierce and sincere in a way that Nie Huaisang doesn’t know how to handle. This, also, is too much, but in a way that hurts less. “I will go talk to Uncle. He owes you an apology.”

It’s almost funny. The idea that Lan Qiren might have to say sorry to Nie Huaisang…

Not so long ago, he would have said that it was impossible. He would have suspected that Lan Xichen would never dare confront his uncle, least of all on Nie Huaisang’s behalf. But now, if Lan Xichen says he will obtain an apology for him, his husband believes that he’ll really fight tooth and nail to get it. He’ll probably still fail, because that’s Lan Qiren and he isn’t one to admit mistakes, least of all when he can argue that things turned out fine for Nie Huaisang, but it doesn’t matter. The apology doesn’t matter. What does matter is knowing Lan Xichen is on his side, and the fact that he didn’t actually fail.

“Don’t go now,” Nie Huaisang demands, pressing himself closer to his husband. “I want… stay with me for now? I don’t care, I really don’t care, just stay with me.”

“Anything you want, my love. I wouldn’t have gone until you felt better, don’t worry.”

Nie Huaisang sighs, and closes his eyes again. He’s breathing easier now, the worst of the shock has passed. Later he’ll feel angry, he suspects. Furious even.

Later.

For now he is at relative peace, in his husband’s arms, loved and protected and seen, the way he always wanted to be, even back when he was a child too shy to dare want anything.

The rest doesn’t matter not really, not when he’s proven his worth in spite of what others say, but…

He didn’t fail, and an old wound he didn’t know he still carried stops itching.

#xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #worst engagement au #yes lxc will have to fucking work hard to get nhs to like him but still #it soothes my soul to write them happy here and there #jau writes #that was a lot of writing today but work really sucked and I needed something GOOD ok?#Anonymous

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mo12mo29 · 3 years

Text

Queen of Dreams Chapter 3: First Words

Carla is babysitting Emma while the boys are out doing their own thing.

Notes: I honestly am a little salty with Carla after that one specific episode (not gonna say which one) so I am gonna do a little bashing on her. I'm also gonna add in a bit of Emma's point of view since she is a little older to the point where she can decipher whether she likes someone or not.

A year has gone by and Emma was already getting so big. She was only one and she already knew how to walk, thanks to Stanford teaching her. Stanley never thought he's see the day when his own twin squealing like a girl and jumping up and down in excitement when Emma first started taking her first steps. Stanley was excited too, but not as excited as Stanford was. He guessed that being accomplished in teaching a one year old how to walk brings out that kind of reaction. Today, Caryn and Filbrick were out of town, leaving Stanford and Stanley to take care of Emma. The boys still needed some help since their parents were gonna be gone for two weeks so they called their older brother Shermie, who came into town a month ago, and he said that he would come over to help out. He still had a few hour drive and the boys had to leave for their after school activities. Stanley had to go to boxing practice and Stanford had to go to his science club. Luckily, Stan's girlfriend, Carla said that she would babysit Emma for a while.

Which brings them to the present. Emma was playing on the floor with her toys while Carla was on the phone with one of her friends. If Emma was being honest with herself, she didn't really like Carla at all. Whenever she was around, she would take all of Stanley's attention, give her disgusted looks when she looks at Emma's hair, and say nasty things about her under her breath when no one is listening. Plus, Carla was no fun! She wouldn't even play with Emma whenever she came over! She would just brush her off and either flirt with Stan, or be on the phone all day. Tonight was gonna be even worse, while Emma was playing with a block, she heard Carla talking on the phone with someone, but the sound of the voice didn't sound feminine at all, it sounded like a male's voice.

"Yeah...Yeah, he's gone and they won't be back in an hour. Don't worry about the baby, she's only one, she's a dumb baby." 'Dumb baby'!? Emma wanted to bite Carla's fingers off. She knew enough words to know that those words were insulted. Just because she was a baby it does not mean she was dumb.

"Be here in ten minutes, don't forget to bring the cigarettes okay? Love you." Woah, wait! A stranger is coming over!? Carla just invited a complete stranger over! Emma did not like the sound of a stranger coming in the house.

Ten minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Carla picked Emma up from the floor, ignore Emma's struggle to get out of her hold, and went to open the door. There was a man with blond hair and looked close to Carla's age

"Tim, you're here!" Carla reached up and kissed him on the lips. Emma was confused. Why was Carla kissing another guy? Didn't she love Stan? When they parted, Tim looked at Emma and said,

"Carla, I don't feel comfortable smoking in front of a baby. Can't you put her in a crib in another room or something?"

"Oh, don't worry, it's about time for her to go to bed anyway." Carla said as she went upstairs, but it was difficult with Emma squirming and whining in her arms. Finally having enough, Carla just went into the room beside her and opened a closest door.

"Now listen here you little brat." She snarled as she placed Emma down into the closet, "You are gonna sit right here like a good little girl and stay quiet." After that, Carla slammed the closet door on Emma, leaving her in a tight dark space. Emma couldn't see a thing and it was frightening being in a dark place all alone. She stood up the best she could and placed her little hands on the door and started banging her hands on them as she cried out. But it did not seem like anyone was gonna hear her so the only thing she could do was sit and wait. She sat back down and sobbed quietly.

"I want my big brothers." She thought to herself.

After waiting in the dark for almost an hour, Emma was about to doze off when she suddenly heard a voice.

"Where's my sister!?" The voice sounded angry, angry and....familiar, wait...wasn't that?

"Stanny!" Emma stood up and started banging on the closet door again. She stopped after her hands got sore. After a few minutes of silence she heard footsteps coming towards the closet. The door opened and once Emma adjusted to the light, she saw a face, a face she thought she would never see again.

"Emma! Are you okay!?" Stanley asked as he picked her up from the closet. Emma just clung to Stanley as she cried. Stanley started to inspect her for injuries, and saw that she has minor bruises on her tiny body that were possibly from all the objects pushing against her body. He also saw that her hands were a little red from banging on the door so much. Stan wanted to be pissed, but right now he had a sister to comfort. No doubt that being in the dark for so long in a tight space was not comforting to a one year old. With that, Stanley hugged her tightly and patter her back.

"I know, I know. What did she do to you? It will never happen again." Emma believed every word. She knew that she was safe

As it turns out, Stanley, Stanford, and Shermie all came home earlier and when Stanley saw Carla in the hands of another man, he was pissed at first, but then he realized that someone was missing. After he realizing that Emma was not present, everything about Carla was thrown out the window. He became angry for another reason Which lead them to the present, the guy that Carla was with left the house, which leaves Carla, Stanley, Stanford, and Shermie. Emma was in Stanley's arms, Shermie was lecturing Carla, and Stanford was off to the side, glaring at Carla.

"Carla, we are gonna call your parents and have them know what happened and we will be pressing charges." Carla looked at Shermie in disbelief.

"You can't do that! They'll never let me leave the house again, they might even force me to spend the night in jail!"

"Should have thought about that before shutting our sister in a closet for hours." Carla stared at Shermie for a second before turning to Stanley.

"Stan! You're just gonna let him do that to me!? Look, if this is about that guy, he's nothing." Stanley just gave Carla a cold look, then he scoffed.

"Carla, I am not your dad. I can't tell you who you can and can't be with and honestly, I don't care. What you did was crossing the line. As soon as you're gone, you better stay gone. I don't know what gave you the idea of stuffing a one year old in a closet. Emma's just a baby."

"So you're gonna just choose your sister over me?!" Carla shouted.

"Choose? Carla, I never had to choose because my sister was always gonna be important to me, she is always gonna be my number one gal because unlike you, she's loyal! Another thing, who smokes around a baby!? You could have gotten Emma sick! I want you out of our house, and out of my life because she-" Stanley pointed to Emma, who was hiding her face in his neck, "Is the only girl I need in my life." Tears were streaming down Carla's face as her eyes were wide with shock, then she turned and walked towards the door. When she opened it, she slightly turned.

"You're gonna end up a lonely man if you keep choosing your sister over everything." Stanley's scowl only deepened as he answered.

"Then I rather be a lonely man than be with someone who hurts my family." Seeing that he was done talking, Carla went out the door, her sniffling getting louder as she disappeared from view. It was silent in the house for a few minutes until Emma started crying again. Stanley patter her back as he tried to console her.

"Its okay Emma, big brother Stanny is here now." Suddenly, Stanley heard a small voice near his ear.

" 'tanny." Stanley's eyes went wide as he looked at Emma. He then looked at his brothers who both had the same look of shock on their faces. He looked back at Emma was was looking back at him.

"Emma, say that again." Emma tilted her head to the side in confusion for a second, "Come on Emma." Stanley then had a thought

"Wait, that's right, she'll probably want me to be specific."

"Emma, who am I?" Emma eyes brightened at Stanley's question and smiled.

" 'tanny." It almost sounded like Stanley's nickname, but without the 'S'.

"Stan, I think she's trying to say your name!" Stanford exclaimed. Stanley was silent, slightly shaking as tears of joy started to run down his face. He felt as if Emma was the only thing that mattered. As if she was the reason why his life is suddenly perfect. He was suddenly taken out of his thoughts when he saw that Shermie and Stanford were staring at him. He quickly wiped his eyes with his free arm and cleared his throat.

"Don't look at me like that! I wasn't crying, I just had dust in my eyes!" Shermie just smiled at him with a smug expression.

"Stan, Ford told me that you cried when you first saw her." Stanford only shrugged.

"I had to tell him, it was the first time you ever cried about something so small."

"Shut up!" Stanley exclaimed. Emma only giggled at the interaction, Stanley turned to face her.

"That didn't give you permission to laugh little missy." But that only made Emma giggle some more.

"Alright boys, that's enough. It's late, it's been a long day, and a certain little sister needs to get some sleep." Shermie said. But when he tried to reach out to take Emma out of Stanley's arms, she whimpered and clung tighter to Stan. It seemed like she didn't want to let her Stanny go.

"It's alright Shermie, I'll take her." Shermie nodded as Stanley took Emma upstairs to bed.

It took a while for Emma to stay in her crib, she kept fussing every time Stanley tried to put her down, but as soon as she fell asleep, Stan went into his shared room where he saw his twin take a five dollar bill out of his pocket. He then turned to Stan and gave it to him.

"A deal's a deal. You win." Stanley looked at the five dollar bill for a second, then he gave it back to Stanford.

"Keep it, I don't want it anymore." Stanford looked at his brother, confused.

"But Stan, the deal was-"

"The deal, doesn't matter anymore. I'm just glad our sister is safe.'"

"Even if it means losing your girlfriend?" Stanley scoffed.

"Oh please, after what she did. I don't even consider her my friend anymore. Honestly, my sister only showed Carla's true colors. No one hurts my sister and get's away with it. Karma will kick her in the butt later, and I will be laughing when that happens." Stanford looked at his twin in surprise. This was the first time he had heard Stanley say something so...mature. Having Emma around really changed him. She made him more compassionate on the outside then he was on the inside. Stanford smiled as he climbed up to his bed.

"Whatever you say, 'Stanny'." Stanley groaned as he sat on his bed.

"You are never gonna let me live that down are you?" Stanford only laughed

"When you get such a cute nickname from a cute baby, how can I?"

"Well knock it off, only Emma can call me that." And he meant it too.

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